Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive

..

Title: Timepiece

Author: Rusty Armour

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Fandom: Enterprise

Rating: PG-13

Category: Gen

Sequel to: Land of the Living

Summary: When the Captain mysteriously disappears, Reed has a brush with the past and begins to question his abilities and his place on Enterprise.

Spoilers: Cold Front, Silent Enemy, Shuttlepod One, Fusion, Detained, Vox Sola, Shockwave 1, Shockwave 2, Minefield, Dead Stop, Singularity, Vanishing Point

Comments: This story is entirely due to some very kind readers who asked me when I would be writing about the PTSD experience Reed mentions in "Land of the Living". As it had only been a vague idea in the back of my head, I needed to do some serious thinking before I could come up with any kind of theory, let alone a half-decent fic. The story ended up being a lot longer and a lot more complicated than I had originally planned. In fact, Reed's PTSD experience ended up being the sub-plot. However, I think it still plays an important part in this story. I just hope that my theory is somewhat believable and possibly compelling, and that "Timepiece" was worth the wait. I came up with the idea for this fic months before "Stigma" aired, and I had already written most of the story before I watched the episode. Therefore, I wasn't aware of certain facts regarding T'Pol and, er, mind melds. For the sake of "Timepiece" consistency, I'm going to ignore the events of "Stigma". I know this also means we'll have to ignore Exercise Bike Reed, but at least we'll still have "Sleeping Dogs" Decon Chamber Reed and "Marauders" Gun-wielding Action Man Reed. *g*

Beta reader(s): I would like to thank my lovely betas, Kathye and Ange, for taking a very rough fic and whipping it into shape. You suffered through verbs of non-utterance and substandard fire suppression systems, and for that I owe you a huge debt of gratitude and a bottle of Kentucky bourbon.

Archived to Reed's Armory on 04/20/2003.

He watched his captain blink as the bright rays of the afternoon sun hit him square in the face. The shuttlepod had barely landed before Archer was out of his seat and eager to step onto the planet. He had patiently tried to remind the Captain that he should allow his armoury officer to check the area first, but Archer had already been opening the hatch. Now Archer was shielding his eyes with one hand, searching various pockets for a pair of sunglasses. Reed handed Archer his own pair then focused on his scanner.

He hadn't detected any unusual readings, except the high levels of dilithium that one would expect to find on a planet that had once held the largest mining settlement in the quadrant. According to the Vulcan Database, Ilsa Minor had been a fairly prosperous and technologically advanced planet two centuries ago. Then their seemingly inexhaustible resources had been depleted, and the mine was closed. The colonists had searched for another planet, and the Ilsa Minor settlement had become a ghost town.

Reed allowed his gaze to wander to the hall standing approximately 100 metres in front of them. The large square structure, with its sturdy concrete walls, reminded Reed of a medieval tower, only this building had been worn by time and the elements, not battles and warfare.

"It's beautiful," Archer said. Reed turned to him in surprise, then realized that the Captain's eyes weren't fixed on the building at all but the sky, which was a mixture of grey and amethyst swirls. Had the man even bothered to study his terrain?

"Sir, I really wish you'd reconsider."

"You've scanned the planet and swept the perimeter twice. If there were anything to find, you would have found it by now."

Reed allowed his eyes to shift from the building to his captain before he consulted his scanner again. He knew he was being over-cautious, perhaps even paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right about the situation--besides the fact that it was a security nightmare.

"You worry too much," Archer stated, as if he could read the lieutenant's mind.

You're walking into a potential trap and you think I worry too much, Reed thought bitterly. Aloud, he said, "It's my job."

"I appreciate that, Malcolm."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not sure if you do."

Archer's hands fell on his hips. "I waited until you, T'Pol and Hoshi conducted every conceivable scan of the planet before I agreed to this meeting. You scanned their ship to see if they really had taken on weapon damage. I allowed you to accompany me down to the planet despite the fact that they asked me to come alone. Hell, I even let you pilot the shuttlepod. I've followed the security protocol."

"Sir, I know you're anxious to get this meeting underway, but if you would just allow me to check some of the buildings..."

"There isn't time. I've already made them wait long enough," Archer said, obviously struggling to maintain the patient tone in his voice. But Reed wasn't willing to back down.

"There could be snipers. We still can't be sure this isn't a trap."

"Snipers? A trap? Malcolm, there's only five of them!"

"That's what they say."

"We only picked up five biosigns. You conducted those scans too!" Archer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Their story checks out, and you know them. You helped rescue them yourself."

Reed bit his bottom lip pensively. "Chances are their story is true. However, it can't hurt to employ some extra security measures..." Archer glared at him. "Just a quick recce, sir," Reed added, smiling tentatively.

"I don't know what a 'recce' is but the answer is still no."

Reed frowned. "Then let me see you safely inside the building, at least. I can cover your back."

"For the last time, Lieutenant, the answer is no!" Archer snapped. Reed lowered his eyes and crossed his arms, his expression inscrutable. Then he felt Archer's hand land on his shoulder.

"Look, Malcolm, I know our last encounter with the Suliban didn't go well, especially for you, but these Suliban aren't members of the Cabal. They don't work for Silik or possess any genetic enhancements. They're just tired and scared." The grip on Reed's shoulder tightened.

"They're trusting me to help them. If I bring you along, they'll think I've broken my promise, betrayed them. They could run and we'd never see them again or, worse, they could be killed. No, if you were to cover my back, it would have to be from here." Archer lifted his hand from Reed's shoulder, and Reed looked up.

"Every mission has its share of risks," Archer said.

"I know," Reed answered. "That's why I'm here."

Archer nodded, fighting to keep a straight face. He pulled off Reed's sunglasses and placed them on the armoury officer's nose, crooked. Reed immediately straightened them, and Archer grinned.

It was the last memory of the away mission that Reed would have for some time.

He could hear voices. They seemed muted as if they were coming from a great distance...

"Mr. Reed. Mr. Reed, can you hear me?"

"Mmm hmm..." Reed opened his eyes, wincing at the bright lights of sickbay and the sharp ache in his head. "Bloody hell," he groaned, closing his eyes again. He started as he felt something cold touch his neck.

"Relax, Lieutenant," Phlox soothed as the hypospray hissed against his neck. Reed did the opposite and tried to sit up. Commander Tucker appeared at his right side and pushed him back on the biobed.

"Follow the Doctor's orders for once, will ya?"

"What happened?" Reed demanded. "Why am I here? Where's the Captain?" The gentle smile on Tucker's lips faded at once.

"That's what we were hoping you could tell us, Lieutenant," Sub-commander T'Pol said, walking into sickbay. Reed suddenly felt a cold knot in his stomach.

"You mean, he's not on the ship?" he asked hoarsely.

"No, he is not." Reed stared into T'Pol's dark eyes for a moment then fought to sit up again. He swung his legs around and would have gone over the side of the biobed if Tucker hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Now where do you think you're going?" Tucker said.

"I have to return to the planet. The Captain--"

"We'll find him, Malcolm. We've got people searching for him right now."

"But I don't understand. What happened?" Reed turned his head when he heard the sound of one of Phlox's instruments humming just above his left ear.

"You were found outside the hall on Ilsa Minor. You have a minor concussion and second degree burns on your hands," Phlox explained.

"What?" Reed looked down and noticed the bandages for the first time.

"You don't remember burning your hands?" Tucker asked quietly. His own hands hadn't left Reed's shoulders. Reed might have squirmed free of Tucker's grasp if he didn't feel the sudden need of some support.

The last thing I remember is..." Reed's forehead furrowed as he tried to concentrate. "I was talking to the Captain. I had lent him my sunglasses because he had forgotten his. He gave them back. He put them on my face crooked and...and..." He looked directly at Tucker, startled. "That's all I remember."

"That's okay," Tucker said softly. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Reed exclaimed. "The Captain's gone missing, and you're telling me not to worry about it? I'm the bloody head of security--of course I'm going to worry about it!" Now Reed started to squirm, but Tucker had a strong hold on him. Reed allowed himself to relax again, knowing that any attempt to escape would involve hurting Tucker.

"Lieutenant, your security team is perfectly capable of conducting the investigation," T'Pol said calmly.

"I'm not questioning their abilities, Sub-commander. It's just that...I should be there. It's my job, my responsibility..." Reed felt his eyes droop. "What the hell was in that hypospray, Doctor?" Phlox walked around to the other side of the biobed and stood beside Tucker, smiling broadly.

"Oh, no, I don't have time for this!" Reed protested.

"You may lead the investigation as soon as you're well enough to leave sickbay," Phlox stated, helping Tucker guide Reed into a reclining position on the bed. Reed tried to stay awake, but he was literally asleep before his head landed on the pillow.

He returned to consciousness slowly, his hazy, drugged brain struggling to regain command over the rest of his body. He pried his eyes open and gazed groggily around sickbay. He could hear a faint chirping sound coming from one of the cages in Phlox's strange menagerie of creatures, but there was no sign of the Doctor himself.

Reed sat up cautiously, forcing numb limbs to work. He slid off the biobed as silently as he could, bracing himself against it as he attempted to convince his legs that standing was, in fact, a good idea.

After most of the trembling had ceased, he gritted his teeth and began to make his way across sickbay.

"And where do you think you're going?" Phlox had emerged from his office and was gazing at the Armoury Officer sternly. Reed swallowed nervously, but held his ground.

"I'm leaving," he announced. The Denobulan sighed.

"Lieutenant, we've had this conversation before. As you may recall, in sickbay I outrank you."

"That may be true," Reed said, backing slowly towards the door, "but you'll have no authority over me once I leave here."

"No, but I will," a voice behind him said. Reed spun around and came face to face with Sub-commander T'Pol. He smiled sheepishly. T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"Is Lieutenant Reed fit for duty?" T'Pol asked. Phlox sighed again.

"For light duties, yes," he admitted reluctantly. Reed turned to Phlox in surprise.

"If I'm fit for duty then why did you try to stop me from leaving sickbay?" Reed frowned. "Light duties?"

"I just wish to speak to Mr. Reed about what he remembers before...his accident," T'Pol said, clasping her arms lightly behind her back.

"You may conduct your interview here, Sub-commander, while I re-examine Mr. Reed's head." Phlox gestured to the biobed, and Reed shuffled back in chagrin.

"Look, I've told you already. I don't remember anything," Reed said, climbing back onto the biobed.

"Then we must attempt to retrieve the missing memory, Lieutenant," T'Pol said. She looked at Phlox, who was holding a scanner near Reed's head. "Doctor, is there any reason--any medical reason--for Mr. Reed's memory loss?"

"It could be due to the blow he took to the head. That would be the most likely explanation. I have also read that humans will sometimes 'block out' certain memories that are too difficult to process."

"How long will it be before Mr. Reed manages to regain his memory?"

"It's impossible to say. It could be hours, days, weeks--"

"Or never," Reed said glumly.

"Now, Lieutenant, you mustn't give up hope so quickly. I have every confidence that your memory of the events on the planet will return in time."

"That's nice. I appreciate the vote of confidence and the interest you have both taken in my cognitive functions. Please feel free to discuss my brain while I'm gone." Reed hopped off the biobed.

"Lieutenant!"

"A trip to the planet might help me jog my memory. It certainly couldn't hurt, could it?"

"Both shuttlepods have gone down to planet. You will have to wait until one of them returns," T'Pol said.

Reed smiled. "Not if I use the transporter." A Vulcan eyebrow shot up, and T'Pol looked quickly at Phlox.

"Doctor, perhaps you should re-examine Mr. Reed's head," she suggested. She was obviously aware of the crew's fear of the transporter. She had certainly never been willing to use it herself.

"It's all right, Sub-Commander. It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"I hope to never be in that position, Lieutenant," T'Pol stated firmly. "However, if you insist on using the transporter to reach the planet, I will assist you."

"I would appreciate that. Thank you." Reed started to walk quickly towards the door, and T'Pol was forced to maintain a brisk stride to keep up with him.

"Remember, you're on light duties, Lieutenant," Phlox called, but Reed and T'Pol had already left sickbay.

Stepping onto a transporter platform is a bit like stepping into a room you aren't expecting to find, Reed thought, as he materialized on the planet, about 20 metres from the hall. Reed stumbled slightly and released the breath he had been holding since T'Pol had activated the transporter.

"So you were sprung out of sickbay, were ya?" Reed turned, though he had no difficulty recognizing the distinctive southern drawl. Tucker smiled slightly: under any other circumstances he probably would have been grinning.

"Any news?" Reed asked tentatively. Tucker shook his head.

"Nothing so far. The first security team is doing a complete sweep of the hall. The second team is searching the rest of the settlement."

"What about biosigns? Have we detected any biosigns?"

Tucker gave a slight start, looking away for an instant. "Uh, no. No biosigns," he said quietly. Reed felt a sudden jab of fear, an emotion he couldn't quite mask from his face.

"The dilithium levels could be interfering with our scanners," Tucker suggested. "Maybe they're blocking them somehow."

"But the dilithium levels aren't that high. There are only trace levels at best. They're hardly likely to interfere with our scans."

"Well, maybe the Captain was, uh...forced underground."

Reed looked at Tucker skeptically. "Forced underground?" he echoed.

"Yeah. Uh...deep, deep underground," Tucker said with a nervous laugh.

"That would probably place the Captain in the mines themselves. What do you think happened? That the meeting wasn't going well, so he decided to take a little stroll?"

Tucker bit his lip. "The mine shafts were sealed off years ago, before either of us was even born," he said.

Reed shivered slightly as a cool breeze hit them. It would be dark in a few hours and, according to the Vulcan database, the nights on Ilsa Minor tended to be cold. Reed turned his attention to the building.

"I'm going inside. If you come up with any more brilliant theories, be sure to let me know."

Tucker clasped a hand on Reed's arm. "No, not yet," he said quietly. "There's...there's something I've gotta tell you."

"Does it involve mine shafts?" Reed asked sarcastically. Tucker shook his head and swallowed.

"No, it involves your favourite subject, actually: explosions."

"Explosions...?" Reed's eyes widened, and he immediately broke from Trip's grasp, heading for the building.

"Malcolm!"

"Why didn't you say something sooner instead of spouting all that nonsense about mines?" Reed demanded, opening the hall doors. He didn't look back when they almost slammed in Tucker's face.

"I knew you'd think the worst as soon as I told you. I was trying to ease you into the news, show you the other...possibilities." Reed whipped around and Tucker almost crashed into him.

"The other possibilities!" Reed snapped. "You tell me there's been an explosion and you want me to consider 'the other possibilities'?"

"See? There you go! Thinking the worst!"

"I'm not thinking the worst!" Reed shouted. "I'm-I'm just trying to do my job." He turned abruptly and headed down the long, dim corridor in front of him. The floor looked like it was made from linoleum or a material with similar properties. He could hear his boots tapping on the tiles as he walked. He could soon hear Tucker's boots as well.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Tucker called, his voice echoing slightly in the silent, empty corridor. Reed stopped and allowed Tucker to catch up with him.

"I haven't been able to think at all since the Captain disappeared," Tucker admitted as he fell into step with the armoury officer. "And I don't want to 'cause if I do, I'm afraid I'll start thinking the worst."

"Like me?" Reed asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"No, like myself."

Reed stared at Tucker in surprise.

"You're talking to the guy who tried climbing into an airlock, remember?" Tucker said. "I guess I thought that if I could keep you from thinking the worst, I wouldn't have to think the worst either."

Reed sighed. "You know, I don't go out of my way to be pessimistic."

"No, it's just part of your charming personality."

Reed shot Tucker a dirty look. "Actually, it's part of my job description. I have to be able to recognize the dangers behind every situation. If I don't allow myself to face the worst scenario, then how can I be expected to think of a suitable defence strategy? I can't protect the ship if I'm blind, Commander."

"Ah, hell, I know that. It's just that...this is the Captain we're talking about, not some ship coming off the port bow! This is a rescue mission, not a battle. What the hell are you trying to protect us from anyway?" Tucker demanded. Then he winced as the full meaning of his last statement became clear.

"Which way?" Reed asked quietly. They had reached a junction where the corridor branched off to their left.

"Straight," Tucker said. "We keep walking in the same direction."

They walked in silence for almost a minute before Reed spoke again.

"Trip."

"Yeah?"

"I'll try to keep an open mind and...and I'll consider every possibility before I start thinking the worst."

Tucker smiled and clapped Reed on the back.

"I know you will, Malcolm."

The sound of voices was the first indication that they were approaching the scene of the explosion. They seemed unnaturally loud to Reed, and he wondered if it was simply an effect caused by sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor. Then he saw that the double steel doors of the council-chamber, which would have usually blocked noise, had been blown clear off their hinges.

Reed stared at the damaged door in disbelief, his eyes slowly taking in the scorch marks on the wall.

"I'm surprised the whole bloody building didn't burn down," he muttered.

"It's made out of concrete, remember?" Tucker said. "Besides, the fire didn't spread beyond the council-chamber."

Reed tugged at his shirt collar. Although the fire had been contained within the council-chamber, he could still feel the heat of the blast. He could only imagine how hot the council-chamber would be. Holding back a sigh, Reed squared his shoulders and entered the room.

When Reed walked into the council-chamber and saw the extent of the damage, it was a challenge not to break his promise to Tucker and think the worst.

Everything in the room was black, scorched and damp. The smell of smoke was overpowering. Worse than that, however, was the sickly odor of burnt flesh that subtly permeated the room. Reed felt his stomach churn and a memory leapt into his mind, unbidden. He immediately forced it back, using every degree of his willpower to keep that one image at bay.

He could feel the sweat forming at his temples, a drop trickling down the right side of his face. He could hear his own breath sounding hard and harsh to his ears.

"Malcolm?" Tucker was standing in front of him, a hand clasping his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" Reed nodded shakily.

"Yes...No...I..." Reed stumbled out into the corridor, leaning heavily against the wall. Then he felt Tucker's hand on his shoulder again.

"What's the matter?" Tucker asked, fear and concern mingling in his voice. "Did-did you remember something?" Reed laughed sharply then quickly quelled the sound.

"No, not exactly, Commander. Nothing that will help us, anyway." He pushed himself off the wall and managed to regain what he could only hope was a dignified stance. He looked at Tucker sharply. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you...?" Tucker said, confused.

"That there were bodies," Reed hissed.

Tucker's mouth fell open.

"I have a nose, Commander! I know the smell of burnt flesh when I come across it!"

Tucker shut his eyes. "I wasn't deliberately keeping this from you. I just--"

"Didn't want me to think the worst?" Reed said sarcastically.

"I was going to tell you about the bodies when I told you about the explosion, but you took off before I could say anything." Reed blushed and looked away. Tucker sighed wearily and rubbed the back of his neck.

"We're pretty sure the bodies belong to the Suliban the Captain was supposed to be meeting, but we're still waiting for the results of the DNA scans."

"How many?" Reed asked, still looking embarrassed.

"What?"

"How many bodies did you find?"

"Five. There were only five."

"Only?" Reed exclaimed, looking at Tucker as if he had lost his mind. Tucker had delivered this piece of information as if it was good news. Then Reed received his explanation.

"If the Captain had been here during the explosion, there would be six bodies," Tucker stated with confidence. Reed closed his eyes tightly. He would think that, Reed thought in chagrin. Of course he would think that.

"Trip," he said gently, opening his eyes, "you can't know that for sure. You're assuming that the bodies that were found all belong to the Suliban. Without the results from the scans--"

"Malcolm."

"Yes?"

"You're doing it again."

"What? Oh...right. Sorry."

"Happy thoughts, remember?"

"Got it."

"Good." Tucker turned back towards the chamber. "We should probably go back."

"Yes. Yes, of course," Reed answered, forcing a smile.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Tucker cast a doubtful glance at the chamber.

"What exactly happened in there?" Reed took a deep breath. He had really hoped that Tucker wouldn't ask that question.

"I...I just had a brush with the past. Something I keep trying to forget." Reed looked down at his bandaged hands.

"Must be pretty bad," Tucker said softly.

"You have no idea."

This time when Reed entered the council-chamber, his eyes took in the members of the security team and not just the grim evidence of the explosion. Reed noticed the masks, gloves and protective clothing the team was wearing as they sifted through the burnt but soaked contents of the room. Then he spotted the one object that interested him most: the bomb itself.

To the untrained eye, it probably just resembled a large chunk of melted and distorted metal. But Reed could see where the casing had been and make out a few of the wires that had once been a part of the intricate design. Reed lowered himself down on his haunches, studying the remnants of the bomb closely. He looked up briefly as a member of his team approached him, nodding his head in greeting.

"We think it was set off by remote control, sir," the crewman said. "We found no evidence of a timing mechanism."

"If it was set by remote control, then someone must have been watching this building...Billy, who's in charge of the team searching the rest of the settlement? Tanner?"

"Aye, sir."

"Hmm...I think I'd best speak with him. I'll check in with you later. Contact me if you find anything."

"Yes, sir." Reed rose and found he was face to face with Tucker.

"What should I do?" Tucker asked, somehow managing to sound eager and anxious at the same time.

"I think we've probably got the hall covered, but we could use some help searching the rest of the settlement. I'm going to track down Tanner. Come with me if you like."

"Okay," Tucker said. Reed took one last look around, trying not to appear too relieved to escape what remained of the council-chamber.

After speaking with Tanner and learning that his team had discovered no clues to Archer's disappearance yet, Reed insisted on covering the same ground they had started to investigate. Tucker accompanied Reed, wielding a flashlight and a healthy dose of optimism. Reed needed both. So, while Tucker chatted amiably and directed his flashlight's beam into every dark crevice and sinister corner, Reed conducted his search, his eyes dividing their gaze between scanner readings and the objects illuminated by Tucker's flashlight.

By the time they reached the fourth building, Reed's head was throbbing painfully. He did his best to ignore it, but the pain lingered no matter how much he concentrated on his task. Tucker had ceased all attempts at conversation a long time ago, as if sensing that the man beside him wasn't really listening.

Reed felt a twinge of guilt. He knew that talking helped distract Tucker from the harsh reality of the situation, but he just didn't have the time or energy to humour him right now. He needed his brain to be alert, focused...And would this damn headache ever go away? Reed held back a grimace, his eyes trailing after the beam of Tucker's flashlight.

There were two stacks of chairs and a large table pushed against the wall. The furniture was covered in a thick layer of dust and had obviously not been disturbed in some time, just like everything else they had seen during their search so far.

"Malcolm," Tucker began, "don't you think that-?" Suddenly Reed's communicator beeped and both men jumped. Reed reached for his communicator and snapped it open.

"Reed here."

# Ah, Lieutenant. This is Doctor Phlox. #

Damn, Reed thought. He had hoped that the Suliban autopsies would have kept Phlox distracted a little longer than this.

# Mr. Reed, it has been almost five hours since you went down to the planet. As you're on light duties, I'm sure I have no need to remind you that- #

"I feel perfectly fine, Doctor. Really."

# If you were 'perfectly fine,' you wouldn't have been restricted to light duties. #

"This isn't just some away mission. It's a critical situation. The Captain is missing, and as long as he's missing I'm not going to leave my post because I've got some bump on my head."

# That 'bump' is a minor concussion, Lieutenant. #

"Bump. Concussion. What's the difference?"

# Medically speaking, there's a great deal of difference. #

"Well, until I earn my medical degree, I'm afraid I shall have to remain blissfully ignorant on the subject of head injuries. If I start to feel the difference firsthand, I'll be sure to let you know."

# Lieutenant- #

Reed shut off his communicator, meeting Tucker's eyes reluctantly. The chief engineer was glaring at him.

"You were totally out of line," Tucker said.

"Yes, I suppose I was, but I'm not going to have much luck finding the Captain if I'm stuck in my quarters or sickbay."

"And since when do you have to be the one to find him? We've got perfectly good people here. Why not let them do their jobs?"

"Who says I'm not?"

"Well, you're covering the same ground Tanner's team has already gone over for starters," Tucker pointed out, waving his hand in a wide gesture that took in most of the area around them. Reed crossed his arms.

"Tanner's team might have missed something, and two pairs of eyes are better than one."

"There are several pairs of eyes back on the ship."

"They don't have my training," Reed argued.

"Or your damn stubbornness," Tucker retorted. Reed's teeth flashed but the smile was feral.

"Shall we continue, Commander?"

Tucker sighed. "Okay. But if you collapse or something don't expect me to carry you back to the ship."

"I'll keep that in mind," Reed said absently, his eyes conducting another quick search of their immediate surroundings. "I think we've done all we can in this room. Let's move on to the next--"

Tucker's communicator beeped. Tucker pulled it out of his sleeve quickly, as if he was afraid to disturb the dead silence of the room.

"Tucker here."

# Commander, this is T'Pol. I have received the results from the DNA scans. #

"And?" Tucker asked, once again managing to sound nervous and eager at the same time.

# I wish to hold a meeting with the senior staff to discuss the findings. #

She wasn't giving anything away. Reed wished he knew whether that was a good or bad sign coming from a Vulcan.

"When should we report?" Tucker said, trying to keep his voice calm.

# Now. #

"Okay. I'll contact Rostov and ask him to--" Tucker's words were suddenly cut off, as was everything else around them.

"What the hell?" Tucker shouted. The two men looked around in surprise. They were standing on the transporter platform on Enterprise.

"Good evening, Commander. Lieutenant," T'Pol said from where she stood at the control panel.

"You...you...you transported us up here?" Tucker demanded, stepping quickly off the platform.

"Is that a problem, Commander? As Lieutenant Reed used the transporter to go down to the planet, I assumed that you wouldn't mind using it to return to the ship."

"He might not mind but I do!"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "I realize that you prefer being transported directly to the bridge, but I'm afraid that I could only manage the transporter platform."

"Ha, ha, ha! You're a regular comedian. Anyone ever tell you that, T'Pol?" Tucker said sarcastically.

"No," T'Pol answered, her face devoid of expression. Tucker winked at Reed, who rolled his eyes.

Good lord, Reed thought. Why don't they just get a room?

"T'Pol, what were the results of the DNA scans?" Tucker said, his tone becoming serious.

"I would prefer to discuss the results when all the senior officers are present." T'Pol turned and walked away from the transporter.

When they reached the situation room, Hoshi and Mayweather were already there, looking tense and alert. Both faces lit up for a second when they saw Tucker and Reed, before hope quickly faded from their expressions. Reed tried to quell his growing fear.

"I've called you all here to discuss the results of the DNA scans," T'Pol said, moving to the viewscreen and bringing up the necessary data. Reed squinted at the screen, trying to decipher the information. His head throbbed a little more sharply, and he decided to wait for T'Pol to explain the findings to him. Tucker wasn't so patient.

"Cut the crap and tell us what's going on! What does it say?"

"The bodies we discovered were all Suliban," T'Pol stated. "No human DNA was present in any of the scans."

There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Well, why didn't you say so instead of dragging this out?" Tucker asked with a shaky laugh.

"I had assumed that you would wish to see the data the science team had collected before I briefed you on the results."

Tucker shrugged. "Yeah, sure, that works too."

"Then we agree," T'Pol said with a curt nod of her head. Tucker nodded as well, and the Science Officer launched into her lecture.

At first, Reed tried to absorb all the data T'Pol was presenting to them, but his tired, throbbing head wasn't as interested in following her discourse. As T'Pol brought up another scan on the viewscreen, his mind started to wander back to the planet.

Maybe Tucker had been right about the Captain hiding in the mines, or perhaps he had been captured and that was where he was being held. When the meeting was over, he would put together a team to search the mines. That was if the meeting ever ended...

He didn't want to know what the DNA scans revealed, unless they somehow provided a clue to the Captain's whereabouts. He had already received all the information he needed: there was a possibility that the Captain was alive and still on the planet. It was the one piece of information he had truly understood and it was all that mattered.

Reed was about to interrupt T'Pol's debriefing and request permission to return to the planet, when Tucker spoke instead, voicing Reed's thoughts.

"So what you're saying is that the Captain is still down there on the planet--somewhere."

"Although we didn't detect any other ships around the planet at the time of the Captain's disappearance, or since then, we have found no evidence to support the theory that he is still on Ilsa Minor. However, it is possible," T'Pol said, remaining calm despite the interruption.

"Then we need to get back down there, keep searching."

"We'll continue the search in the morning, Commander."

"What?" Tucker and Reed shouted.

"You both require rest, as do the other members of the search teams."

"But-!" Tucker and Reed protested.

"Ilsa Minor's moon is not visible for another three days. When its sun sets, the light will be completely obscured and the planet will fall into darkness." She held up a hand as Reed opened his mouth. "Even with scanners, flashlights and infrared devices, it would still be dangerous. Scans have indicated that some of the buildings are unstable. There may be structural damage that could go undetected by our instruments. The wisest course would be to wait until the sun rises again before we send teams back down to the planet."

"And how long will that take?" Tucker asked.

"Approximately 10.6 hours."

"10.6 hours!" Tucker cried. "The Captain could be dead by then! What if he's injured or he's been taken prisoner?"

T'Pol turned to the viewscreen for a moment, and Reed wondered if it was an attempt to shield herself from Tucker's emotions.

"Commander, my responsibility is to the entire crew, not just the Captain," she said. "I'm not willing to risk lives needlessly if there are other alternatives. We'll continue monitoring Ilsa Minor from the ship, and I'll conduct more scans. In fact, Ensign Mayweather has kindly volunteered to pilot a shuttlepod so that I may collect some closer scans of the planet's surface."

"I'll come too," Reed blurted out. T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Lieutenant."

"What? Why not?"

"Doctor Phlox has insisted that you return to sickbay. He wishes to run more tests and monitor your condition."

"Condition!" Reed said indignantly. "I don't have a condition!" Tucker coughed loudly, and Reed glared in his direction.

"Lieutenant, if you are unable to remember the injuries you sustained on the planet, then I believe it is crucial that you allow Doctor Phlox to examine you."

"Now, hold on! I never said--"

"I'll escort him," Tucker said. "He may have forgotten how to get there." He winked at Mayweather and Hoshi, who were trying not to smile.

"Ha bloody ha," Reed muttered.

"We'll reconvene at 0800," T'Pol said, ignoring the antics of her colleagues. "Dismissed."

Reed opened his eyes and groaned, but this time he made the sound in frustration not pain. He was in sickbay--again--looking up at the glaringly cheerful Doctor Phlox.

"I thought you were just going to give me an analgesic," Reed grumbled, sitting up on the biobed.

"It was an analgesic, though in some cases it can make the patient drowsy."

"Drowsy? The damn thing knocked me out!"

"Hmm...yes. You were asleep before I had finished my examination..." Phlox said thoughtfully. "I suppose I should have warned you."

Reed glared at him. "Yes, a warning might have been nice!" Phlox's smile grew wider, as if he had some hope of counteracting Reed's sullen frown.

"Well, the sleep did you a world of good, Lieutenant. Besides, it allowed me to monitor you during the night. You'll be happy to know that your condition is improving."

"I don't have a condition," Reed said stubbornly, sliding off the biobed. He looked around sickbay for a moment, as if he was looking for something. His eyes finally moved back to Phlox.

"Doctor, what time is it?" he asked warily.

"I believe it's almost 0800." Reed's eyes widened.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted, scrambling out of sickbay. He ran for the lift, pausing only long enough to hit the button, before he leapt inside. When the lift reached the bridge, he practically flew to the situation room. Three startled faces turned towards him. The Vulcan regarded him calmly.

"You're late," she announced.

"Oh? Am I?" Reed panted. "I'm most terribly sorry, Sub-commander. I was taken hostage in sickbay by a maniacal Denobulan doctor."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Tucker tilted his head to one side and studied Reed closely. Reed fidgeted under his scrutiny.

"Please forgive my appearance. I didn't have time to shower or shave."

"And did you sleep in your uniform too, or does it just look like it?" Tucker asked, with just the hint of a smile.

"With the Sub-commander's permission, I was planning to lead a team into the mines, so I'm afraid my uniform might be in a much sorrier state by the time the day is out," Reed said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You believe the Captain could be in the mines, Lieutenant?" T'Pol asked in interest. Reed stole a glance at Tucker.

"Actually, it was the Commander's idea, but I believe we should consider every option." T'Pol looked thoughtful for an instant as she considered Reed's proposal.

"I suppose it's a possibility," she conceded. "It might explain why we haven't managed to detect the Captain's biosigns. The dilithium crystals could be acting as a barrier to our--"

"Ha! See! I told you!" Tucker exclaimed, pointing a finger at Reed.

"That was just a guess!" Reed protested. "You don't know that for sure!"

"Lieutenant Reed is right," T'Pol said. "Until we conduct a thorough search of the mines, we have no evidence to substantiate that hypothesis."

"Then what are we standing around for?" Tucker demanded. "Let's go!"

T'Pol took another moment to think then nodded. "Very well," she said.

Reed and his team spent almost twelve solid hours scouring the mines. They split into teams of two to three people and covered every tunnel, passing their scanners over every hole and crevice in the hopes of finding some piece of evidence that could lead them to their captain. But their scanners picked up nothing but large traces of dilithium and other minerals.

The only life forms they discovered were insectile, such as the creature that resembled a centipede and crept up the cool, damp rock walls or clung to the low overhanging ceilings. There were also the micro-organisms that dwelled throughout the tunnels and had appeared in the soil samples the science team had collected. When T'Pol ordered the teams to return to Enterprise, it was an exhausted, filthy and despondent group that piled into the shuttlepods.

Reed barely acknowledged T'Pol and Tucker's presence in the launch bay as he climbed out of shuttlepod one. He just shook his head and trudged wearily to his quarters, stripping out of his uniform and heading straight for the shower.

He closed his eyes as the hot water hit his tense neck and shoulders and every aching muscle. He reached for the dispenser and pumped some shampoo into the palm of his hand, massaging his itchy scalp and working the dirt and grime from his hair.

Even after he scrubbed his entire body and washed away every particle from the mines, he stood under the shower as if hoping to cleanse his very soul. When almost 20 minutes had passed, Reed finally turned off the shower and grabbed a towel.

After drying off, Reed crossed to his locker to change into a t-shirt and shorts. Then he sat down in front of his computer and switched it on. Reed had asked Tanner to send him the scans from the previous day. He hoped that by studying them he would come across some clue. There had to be something they had missed.

Reed had just started poring over the first set of scans when he heard his door chime. Biting back a groan, he rose to his feet.

"Sub-commander!" he exclaimed when he saw T'Pol standing on his doorstep.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Lieutenant," she said, taking in his casual attire with a rapid glance.

"No, not at all, Sub-commander. I was just going through some of the scans Ensign Tanner and his team collected yesterday. Please come in," he said. Then he blushed as he realized how a Vulcan sub-commander might interpret an invitation to a lieutenant's quarters.

"Uh...I mean, that's if you wish to. If you'd rather go somewhere else...I can change into a uniform quickly enough if it's important."

"It is important but you don't need to change. I need to speak with you. I would prefer to do so in private, so your quarters will suffice." T'Pol stepped past Reed and into his cabin.

"Oh, uh...all right, then." Reed moved quickly to his desk to offer her the chair. To his amazement, she sat down on his mattress instead. Reed was at a loss for a few seconds. Then he plopped down into the chair himself.

"Ensign Sato was correct," T'Pol said as her eyes travelled around the room.

"About what?" Reed asked, beginning to feel defensive.

"She said your quarters were more Spartan than a Vulcan's," T'Pol explained, raising an eyebrow in what might have been amusement if Vulcans could be amused.

"How would she-?" Reed began. Then he remembered. Hoshi had visited his cabin briefly when the Suliban had attacked the ship. And he had thought the topless ensign had been too embarrassed to make any observations about his quarters. He had obviously been mistaken.

"I believe she meant it as a compliment," T'Pol said. Reed snorted.

"Yeah, I bet she did. And what do you think, Sub-commander?"

"About the true meaning of Hoshi's words or the condition of your quarters?"

Reed smiled, enjoying this sudden battle of wits.

"Either," he stated.

"I'll answer both questions, Lieutenant. I believe that Hoshi was teasing both of us when she described your quarters. In my opinion, your quarters are clean, organized and functional." Reed allowed his own eyes to take a tour of the room.

"I hate clutter," he said. "An officer should try to keep his quarters neat and tidy."

"You do not display any pictures or other personal...mementos, as other humans might."

Reed shrugged. "Never thought about it, really. I suppose I've just never been into all that. Personal items are just that: personal. They shouldn't be on display for other people to see." Reed sighed. "If you've come to study typical human behaviour, I'm afraid you won't find it here, Sub-commander."

"That is not why I've come here, Lieutenant, though I must confess that I often find it a relief to work with at least one crew member, Doctor Phlox aside, who does not display 'typical human behaviour'."

"Really? Well, uh...thank you. I'll take that as a compliment too," Reed said, trying to hide his smirk. T'Pol didn't seem to notice.

"I have observed," she continued, "that despite your occasional outbursts and your strange fascination with weapons, you appear to possess the ability to control your emotions."

Occasional outbursts? Strange fascination with weapons? Reed found this assessment a little less flattering, but he merely nodded in what he hoped was Vulcan-like stoicism.

"I try, Sub-commander. I had a military upbringing--my father was in the Royal Navy and he was fairly strict. Then, of course, there's the stiff upper lip. I wouldn't be much of a Brit, or a Reed for that matter, without one," he said wryly.

"'Stiff upper lip'?" T'Pol asked in confusion. "I was unaware that you suffered from this particular affliction. You have my sympathy, Lieutenant." Reed started to laugh, but quickly smothered the sound when he realized that T'Pol wasn't joking.

"It's just an expression, Sub-commander. It simply means having courage in the face of adversity."

"What does having a stiff upper lip have to do with courage?"

"I don't know," Reed admitted.

"It is a strange expression," T'Pol said.

"Yes, I suppose it is, really, but then most expressions are." Reed smiled. "Another human eccentricity, perhaps."

"Perhaps." T'Pol's gaze swept Reed's quarters again.

"Sub-commander, what is it that you wish to speak to me about?" Reed said, squirming slightly in his chair. Then his eyes suddenly widened and he sat up straight. "Have you found something?" he demanded. T'Pol glanced quickly at Reed.

"No, we haven't found anything. I would have told you if we had."

Reed sighed audibly, slumping back in his chair. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

"Tomorrow. We're bound to find something then."

"Lieutenant--"

"If Travis and I went out in a shuttlepod tomorrow--"

"Lieutenant, I think--"

"If we fly close to the planet's surface, we might be able to--"

"Lieutenant!"

Reed jerked in surprise and his eyes flew open.

"What?" he asked in alarm.

"I think we should call off the search. The Captain is obviously not on the planet," T'Pol said quietly.

Reed stared at T'Pol in disbelief, unable to speak for several seconds. Then he was on his feet and standing before his superior.

"I can't believe you've given up, that you would leave him to--"

"We've searched the planet thoroughly, Lieutenant, and conducted every conceivable scan. We found nothing," T'Pol stated firmly, rising to her feet as well. Reed didn't flinch, simply crossed his arms and held his ground.

"Then we obviously need to search again," he said.

"We have found no evidence that Captain Archer is still on the planet."

"Nor any evidence that he left it."

"A ship could have entered the planet's system using cloaking technology we are not yet familiar with. Such technology could go undetected by the ship's sensors."

"Do-do you really think so?" Reed asked, a note of optimism entering his voice.

"I believe that it's a possibility, though if the Captain has been kidnapped, it seems surprising that his captors have yet to contact us. It would be only logical if they wish to receive a ransom."

Reed's tiny degree of hope plummeted.

"Do you think he's dead? Is that what you're saying?"

"It's another possibility, yes."

Reed stared at her in disbelief. They were discussing the Captain's life. How could she be so bloody calm about it?

"No, even you can't be that cold," he said.

"I am simply stating facts, Lieutenant. There was nothing to be found. Therefore, we must conclude that the Captain has been kidnapped and removed from the planet or that he is, indeed, dead."

Reed shook his head angrily.

"When you can show me his body, a sample of his DNA, or some scrap of evidence, then I will believe he's dead. But until you can do that, I have to keep looking. It's my job."

Reed returned to his chair and rubbed his face wearily. T'Pol took a few steps towards him.

"Lieutenant, I believe you are experiencing guilt. You feel responsible for what happened to the Captain and you think that it's your fault."

"I do feel responsible and it was my fault. However, my feelings on the subject are completely irrelevant."

"On the contrary, I fear that they are quite relevant. They are obviously clouding your judgment."

"Clouding my judgment?" Reed shouted. "Bollocks!"

"Lieutenant, I understand that you're upset..." Reed laughed sharply, shaking his head again.

"How can you understand? The only emotion you've ever experienced has been repugnance: repugnance of human beings and their emotions."

T'Pol's eyes narrowed, and Reed took grim satisfaction in watching her struggle to control her temper.

"I was hoping that we might have a calm and rational discussion, that I might appeal to your reason. I should have realized that, as a human, you would possess none," T'Pol said at last. Reed forced a smile.

"I'm just having one of my 'occasional outbursts,' Sub-commander."

"And I was trying to empathize with an emotion other than repugnance." T'Pol nodded her head curtly and walked towards the door. "Good night, Mr. Reed."

Reed winced. You bloody fool, he thought.

"Sub-commander, wait!" he called. The Vulcan stopped and turned around slowly. "I'm sorry. My behaviour just now was completely unacceptable. You were right: I am upset. However, that doesn't give me the right to take everything out on you, especially when you're just stating facts. And you're in command now. I shouldn't be questioning your authority."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow, no doubt surprised by his sudden change in mood. Then Reed thought he could read another statement from her slightly confused expression: that she would never understand humans.

"You may have one more day on the planet, Mr. Reed. If you haven't found him after that, then we will need to discuss other options," T'Pol said, watching Reed closely to gauge his reaction.

"Understood," Reed said, managing to keep his expression neutral. T'Pol nodded, and Reed wasn't sure if she was acknowledging his answer or indicating her approval. T'Pol turned and walked to the door, but then paused before opening it.

"I still believe that you may have the answer, Lieutenant, that the key is hidden somewhere in your memory."

"Then I shall do my best to remember, Sub-commander," Reed said.

Reed continued to view the scans for an hour after T'Pol left. Then, when he found that his eyelids kept slipping shut and that he could no longer absorb any information, he made his way to bed. If he could just get a couple hours sleep, he could refresh his mind and complete his study of the scans.

He gratefully laid his head down on his pillow and pulled his blankets up to his chin. A sigh escaped from his lips and his weary muscles began to relax. He burrowed deeper in the blankets, wrapping them tightly around his body.

It had only been a few minutes, surely? So why, then, why, was someone trying to wake him up? Reed groaned and tried to pull the blankets over his head.

"Come on, Lieutenant, you've got to get up."

"What time is it?" Reed croaked, thinking the voice sounded familiar.

"I have no idea. All I know is that there isn't a lot of it. We've got a situation, sir."

"Situation? Travis, is that you?" Reed managed to pry his eyes open, but had trouble discerning who it was in the dark. The figure in front of him started to shake him by the shoulders.

"Sir, this is serious! Get up! There's a bomb on the ship!"

"What?" Reed felt the blankets being torn off him and he fumbled to disentangle his limbs and sit up. He was barely on his feet before his visitor was pushing him towards the door.

"But I'm not dressed," Reed protested. "My uniform..."

Mayweather, for that's who the visitor was, hit the panel beside the door and dragged his superior officer out of his quarters.

"There isn't time, sir. Sub-commander T'Pol says that the bomb will go off in an hour if you don't defuse it."

"But how did a bomb get on the ship in the first place?" Reed asked as he tried to keep up with Mayweather's wide, rapid strides.

"Terrorists," Mayweather said over his shoulder. "Who else?"

"Terrorists!" Reed exclaimed. "What kind of terrorists?"

"The kind that carry guns, plant bombs and kill people, sir. What other kind is there?"

They reached the lift, and Mayweather stood patiently to one side, waiting for Reed to enter.

"Have we been able to negotiate with them yet? Have they made any demands?" Reed asked once the lift started descending.

"Not that I know of, sir."

"Well, can you at least tell me where the bloody bomb is?" Reed snapped impatiently. The lift stopped abruptly and the doors opened. Reed's brow creased in confusion.

"After you, sir," Mayweather said. Reed walked out of the lift and froze.

"This isn't Enterprise," he stated, taking in his surroundings in amazement and fear. Mayweather grasped his arm tightly and started to pull him down the corridor.

"This way, Lieutenant."

"This isn't Enterprise," Reed repeated. "It's Mars Station Alpha. What's going on? How did we get here? We're light years away from Mars...We're not even in the same system!"

Reed tried to break away from Mayweather, but the ensign's grip seemed to be made of steel. He was practically dragging Reed to their destination.

"Let go of me!" Reed shouted.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we need you to defuse that bomb."

"What bomb? You haven't told me anything about it! I don't even know where it is!"

Once again Reed struggled to escape but to no avail. Mayweather had no intention of releasing him.

They turned a corner and Reed found himself facing the twin titanium doors of the Mars Station Alpha commissary. Suddenly he knew which bomb he was meant to defuse.

"No, I can't," he said. "Please don't do this to me."

Reed sat up in bed, inhaling sharply. Then he covered his eyes with a shaking hand. They were back. The bloody nightmares were back. He hadn't had a single one about Alpha in almost two years--until tonight.

He dropped the hand from his eyes and yanked the blankets from his legs with a savage tug. Leaping from his mattress, he marched straight into the head and threw some water on his face. Then he started pacing up and down his quarters, unable to relieve his agitation.

He thought he had gotten rid of them, that the stupid nightmares had finally stopped plaguing him. He didn't need this right now, not with the Captain missing.

Reed briefly considered contacting his ex-therapist then shook his head. Things had ended badly with Kaitlin. He wasn't sure if they were even on speaking terms anymore. No, if the nightmares really had returned, he'd talk to Phlox--once they had found the Captain, of course.

Reed stopped pacing and sat down before his computer. He could find much more productive ways to use his time. He'd study the rest of the scans that Tanner had sent him. Then, perhaps, he would try to sleep again.

Something was beeping. Was it another bloody bomb?

Reed lifted his head and gasped in pain.

"Oww!" he cried, instantly massaging the cramped muscles in his shoulders and neck. He studied his surroundings in confusion before his eyes fell on the monitor in front of him.

"You fell asleep at your desk, you stupid git," Reed muttered to himself.

# Lieutenant! # a voice called through his com. It sounded like Mayweather. # Sir, are you okay? #

The beeping, Reed thought. It had been his door chime.

He stumbled to his feet, ignoring the ache in his back and the creak of his knee joints. The door chimed again.

"Coming," Reed said. He scrambled quickly for the panel beside his door and motioned his visitor in. Mayweather stared at Reed for a few seconds then stepped inside the lieutenant's quarters. Reed ran a hand through his hair and made his best effort to appear normal.

"Good morning, Travis," he said, feigning cheerfulness.

"Uh, good morning, sir. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I didn't realize that--"

"No, it's quite all right," Reed answered quickly. "I, uh...fell asleep in front of my computer, I'm afraid, and--Good Lord, what time is it?"

Mayweather smiled. "It's almost 0830, sir."

"Damn! If I had known I was going to be stupid enough to fall asleep, I would have set my alarm clock!" Reed rushed to his locker and started fishing for a clean uniform.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," Mayweather said. "It happens to everyone."

"Not to me, it doesn't." Reed pulled a uniform out of the locker and hurled it on his bed.

"You've been under a lot of stress. It's only natural that--"

"What time was I supposed to meet you?" Reed demanded. "0800 in shuttle bay one? God, Travis, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, sir. I'll settle for 0900 in the mess hall," Mayweather said gently.

"You mean shuttle bay one, don't you?"

"No, the mess hall. I won't fly on an empty stomach and I don't think you should either."

"But--"

"Mess hall," Mayweather said firmly.

"Very well. But I can be there in a few minutes. I just need to--" Mayweather placed a hand on Reed's shoulder and turned the officer towards the head.

"Take a shower, Lieutenant, and do whatever else you have to do. I'll save a seat for you in the mess hall."

Reed opened his mouth to protest, but found himself nodding instead.

"Thanks, Travis." The ensign grinned and slapped Reed on the back.

"Tell you what. Since I'm such a nice guy, I'll even get you some pancakes and peanut butter. Oh, and there'll be a big cup of coffee with your name on it."

Reed smiled for the first time that morning.

"Bless you, Travis Mayweather."

After four hours Reed knew it was time to call it quits. He had conducted scans of the planet from every conceivable angle and had studied the readings dozens of times. He had eventually lost count of how many times the shuttlepod flew around Ilsa Minor, or the number of times Mayweather had changed their altitude. At one point, Mayweather had flown so low that Reed had been convinced that he could reach outside the hatch and touch the ground. However, despite Mayweather's excellent skills as a pilot, they had found no trace of the Captain.

"Should we head back to the ship, sir?" Mayweather said quietly, as if sensing that Reed had no more instructions left to give him. Reed smiled sadly.

"No. Take us down to the planet."

"But, sir, Sub-commander T'Pol said--"

"I just want to look around once more. Take one last look at..." Reed trailed off and stared out the window.

"I'll set us down just outside the hall, sir."

"Thank you, Travis."

They completed their last circuit of the planet before Mayweather brought the shuttlepod down for a landing. Reed stood up and headed for the hatch. He left his scanner behind.

"Would you like some company, sir?" Mayweather asked tentatively. "I'd be happy to come with you."

"It's okay. I won't be long. Just wait in the shuttlepod for me."

"Aye, sir."

Reed squeezed Mayweather's shoulder then stepped out of the shuttlepod.

Reed stood before it again, his eyes fixed intently on the object as if he might somehow pry the answers from the twisted hulk of metal through sheer willpower alone. He crouched down and ran a finger along the shiny, smooth casing.

The answer lay somewhere in this room. He was sure of it. He just hadn't seen it yet.

God gave you a pair of eyes, Ensign. Use them.

Reed blinked and shifted position. He was tired and his mind had started wandering. He had to focus.

You're the bombs expert. You know more about them than anyone I've ever met. You know how one could have been planted and where. I'm a little out of my depth, Malcolm. I could really use your help.

Reed stood up abruptly and started to pace. Why hadn't they found him yet? It was a large settlement, but surely they should have picked up some trace of him, even if he had been abducted and carried off to another planet. Carried off in a ship that hadn't been detected by their sensors and had possessed the ability to kidnap a Starfleet officer without leaving a shred of evidence. A voice that Reed tried to ignore murmured its suspicions again.

He isn't lost somewhere in the settlement or a prisoner on an alien ship. He was here when the bomb went off. You can't find the Captain because he's dead. There was no way he could have survived that explosion. No one could.

The faces were there. He could see every one of them in perfect detail. But Jerrett was the only one who could meet his gaze with a lifeless expression of his own.

Reed closed his eyes, wishing he could obliterate the sight. But it had followed him from Mars Station Alpha that day and had etched itself permanently in his memory. Jerrett had begun to haunt his dreams again, and now his conscious thoughts. He could even hear the sound of Jerrett's footsteps as...Footsteps?

Reed whirled around, heart pounding. He was reaching for his phase pistol when the source of the sound entered the chamber. Reed's hand dropped to his side, and he smiled sheepishly.

"Sub-commander."

"Forgive me, Lieutenant. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no. It was just my imagination playing tricks on me. Stupid, really." T'Pol stepped closer, studying Reed in interest.

"Why? Who did you think I was, Lieutenant?" she asked. Reed stared at T'Pol for an instant.

"How did you get down here, Sub-commander? If I had known you were coming down to the planet, I would have had Travis go back to the ship to fetch you. You didn't need to take the other shuttlepod."

"I didn't take the other shuttlepod. I transported down."

"You used the transporter?" Reed said in surprise. He was sure that it had only been a couple of days ago when T'Pol had sworn that she would never use it.

"It was more convenient," she explained, "and...I was curious. I had never used it before. It was...an interesting experience." Reed tried not to smile but couldn't help it.

"You get used to it."

"I'm not sure if I wish to 'get used to it'."

"So you'll be taking the shuttlepod back?"

"Yes," T'Pol said. Her dark eyes were darting around the council-chamber intently. Reed charted the course those eyes took and wondered if she saw more than just the black, scorched walls and piles of debris.

"Lieutenant." Her eyes had stopped to rest on the remains of the bomb.

"He's not here, is he?" Reed stated.

"No, I don't think he is."

Reed nodded, his gaze fixed on the twisted piece of metal at his feet.

"So he was either taken by a ship possessing a type of cloaking device our sensors couldn't detect, or he's dead."

"I thought you were unwilling to believe the Captain was dead until you had evidence. Surely it would be better to believe that he has been captured until we have proof to the contrary."

Reed stared at T'Pol again then started to laugh.

"I think you've been spending too much time with Trip, Sub-commander. He's beginning to affect your logic."

T'Pol's forehead creased slightly. "What do you mean, Lieutenant? I don't understand."

"We have no proof that the Captain's been kidnapped either, so I can only conclude that you've been infected by Trip's perpetual sense of optimism," Reed said. "That is unless you're simply trying to cheer me up. Do Vulcans do things like cheering people up? Are there morale officers on Vulcan ships?"

"If I understand the definition of 'morale officer' correctly then, no, we do not possess any on our ships. We have no need for them."

"No, of course you don't. But, then, I suppose you don't have any armoury officers in your Vulcan fleets who go around losing their captains either, do you?"

"Lieutenant--" Reed broke eye contact with T'Pol and started to walk quickly from the room.

"We've wasted enough time here, Sub-commander," he said. "We should be looking for the Captain, though I haven't a bloody clue where to start."

"I have an idea," T'Pol said. Reed stopped and turned.

"Where?"

"Your mind."

Reed stood for several seconds, gaping at the Vulcan in disbelief.

"My what?" he croaked at last.

"I believe that you may have vital information about the Captain locked inside your mind."

Reed sighed and shook his head. "But I told you: I can't remember anything. It's as if...as if something's blocking my memory. Every time I try to remember what happened, I come up blank. There's nothing there."

"You may not be able to retrieve the memory, but that doesn't mean the memory doesn't exist."

"What are you suggesting? That we take a scan of my brain? Ask Doctor Phlox to hypnotize me?" Reed joked. Now it was T'Pol who sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," Reed said immediately. "I didn't mean to--"

"You didn't. I just didn't realize how difficult it would be to...I find myself...hesitant to broach this particular subject with you, Lieutenant. If the situation wasn't so critical..."

"What is it?" Reed asked in concern. He didn't like the fact that T'Pol now appeared nervous when she rarely revealed any emotion at all.

"I think I may be able to retrieve the missing memory," she admitted reluctantly.

"You-you do? How? With some kind of Vulcan hypnosis?"

"No, not hypnosis." T'Pol closed her eyes. "It's an ancient Vulcan ritual called a mind meld."

"A 'mind meld'?" Reed gasped. T'Pol opened her eyes and nodded. Reed swallowed nervously. "What-what exactly would this 'mind meld' entail?"

"I would connect my mind to yours and attempt to retrieve the memory from your subconscious."

Reed's eyes widened. "You would be reading my mind?"

"Yes, but I would only be focusing on that one memory."

"I-I see."

"I have no wish to invade your privacy, Lieutenant, and I would certainly never order you to--"

"This...this technique...You've performed it before?"

There was a slight pause before T'Pol answered.

"No, I haven't...but I've participated in the process before."

"How was it?" Reed asked, sensing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"It was...unpleasant," T'Pol said. "I did not enjoy the experience."

"I see," Reed said, trying to sound calm. T'Pol didn't seem to notice.

"It was...forced upon me. I agreed to participate in the mind meld, but when I asked him to stop..." T'Pol shivered as if the room had suddenly gone cold.

"I would never force it upon anyone. I would only perform a mind meld if I had the subject's full co-operation and, even then, I would break the connection if I sensed that the subject was distressed." She looked directly into Reed's eyes. "You should know that I ended up in sickbay after my own experience with a mind meld. I would ask Doctor Phlox to monitor the session in order to prevent such an incident occurring again."

"I appreciate your honesty, Sub-commander," Reed said. And he did. He also admired the fact that T'Pol would subject herself to another mind meld when her one and only experience with one had obviously brought her great pain. If she was willing to make such a sacrifice to save the Captain, who was he to deny her request?

"Okay, I'm willing to try it. How soon can we begin?"

"I don't suppose there would be any point in trying to dissuade either of you from participating in this procedure," Doctor Phlox said.

He was standing in Reed's quarters, studying his surroundings in bemusement. The only source of light in the room was a candle. The pillows from the bed had been placed on the floor. T'Pol was kneeling on one, while Reed sat cross-legged on the other.

"May I remind you both that the Sub-commander ended up in sickbay after she engaged in a mind meld?" Phlox continued. T'Pol turned her head towards Phlox sharply.

"I remember the experience perfectly," she said. "My memory is not impaired."

"I'm the one with the impaired memory, Doctor," Reed quipped, trying to lighten the mood in his quarters. Phlox wasn't amused.

"I'm not sure if you understand how dangerous a mind meld might be, Mr. Reed," Phlox said sternly.

"Sub-commander T'Pol has explained the risks. I'm prepared."

"Lieutenant, I don't know what a mind meld might do to a human. If you go through with this, you may wake up in sickbay, or you may fall into a coma and not wake up at all."

"And if I don't go through with this, we may never find the Captain: my life isn't the only one at stake."

Phlox sighed and studied the readings on his scanner again.

"I wish you would at least conduct this little experiment in sickbay where I could monitor both of your conditions properly."

"Lieutenant Reed needs to be in an environment where he can relax. As your own readings indicated that his blood pressure increased when he entered sickbay--"

"Yes, all right, Sub-commander," Phlox grumbled, holding up his hand.

"I still say the armoury would be best. There'd be more space and, well, all of those weapons..." Reed said dreamily. T'Pol raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I've seen you in the armoury, Lieutenant. You're not relaxed. It would be the last place on the ship where I would wish to perform a mind meld, especially with 'all of those weapons'."

"Why? Do you fear that Lieutenant Reed might become violent?" Phlox asked in alarm.

"No, distracted."

Reed snorted indignantly. "It looks like the mind meld has already begun. Quick! What number am I thinking of?"

"Lieutenant, the mind meld has not begun. Besides, it doesn't work that way. If the mind meld is successful, you'll know. You'll be able to feel me inside your mind, and I'll be able to tell you more than what number you're thinking of."

Reed swallowed nervously. "Right..."

"You don't have to go through with this, Mr. Reed," Phlox said quietly. "I'm sure the Sub-commander would understand if--"

"Does he really need to be here?" Reed asked T'Pol.

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Well, could he at least sit down and be quiet, then? I can't relax if he's hovering over us like this."

"If I remain standing, I'll be able to contact the medical team faster if something goes wrong," Phlox argued.

"Then take my bloody communicator."

"Lieutenant, you're not relaxed," T'Pol stated.

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to relax when he's in the room?"

"Doctor, please sit down. There's a chair over there," T'Pol said, nodding at the chair by Reed's desk.

"All right, if you insist. I know what a difficult subject Mr. Reed can be," Phlox said.

"Hey!" Reed protested.

"Relax, Lieutenant," T'Pol said.

"Sorry," Reed mumbled.

"Now, I'm going to try a relaxation technique that has proven successful with Ensign Sato on occasion." T'Pol took one of Reed's bandaged hands, turning the palm up. "Close your eyes," she commanded.

Reed did as she requested, trying not to flinch when she gently prodded the center of his palm with two fingers.

"Relax. Focus. You are on a turbulent ocean, but you have the power to control the waves."

Reed immediately tensed up.

"Focus," T'Pol said.

"Uh...Sub-commander, may I ask you a question?"

"If you must."

"What kind of ship am I on?"

"You're not on a ship, Lieutenant."

"Not on a ship. Ah. I see. I'm wearing a life jacket, then."

"You do not need one, Lieutenant. You are in control of the waves."

"Good God! Do you want me to drown? No one can control the sodding waves! Have you ever been in a force 9 gale? Some of the waves are practically a hundred metres tall!"

"Lieutenant, open your eyes," T'Pol said. Reed did so and blushed when he observed the Vulcan version of annoyance.

"Uh, sorry. I'm not very good with water."

"Sub-commander, if I might make a suggestion, why don't you try another...place?" Phlox said from his chair. Reed shot Phlox a look of pure gratitude, and the Doctor smiled.

"Yes, perhaps you are right," T'Pol admitted. "We'll try again." Reed closed his eyes dutifully and remained absolutely still when T'Pol once again placed two fingers against the palm of his hand.

"Mr. Reed, you are in a field of flowers. You--"

"What kind of flowers?" Reed asked.

"I don't know. The kind of flowers found on Earth."

"No, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific than that. You see I have a lot of allergies."

"It's true," Phlox piped up. "He's allergic to a number of plants, and I fear that if he hasn't received injections for them--"

"You are in the decon chamber," T'Pol interjected quickly. "You are clean and it is pleasant."

"Are you there?" Reed asked.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh," Reed said, sounding disappointed. "All right, then."

"Focus."

Reed concentrated for several seconds then managed to conjure up the image of the decon chamber.

"I can see it," he told T'Pol.

"Good. What does it feel like?"

"Feel like?"

"Lieutenant, you need to focus more. You are in the decon chamber."

"Okay." Reed attempted to concentrate more deeply and place himself in the room he was looking into. T'Pol's fingers were touching his palm again. The sensation was strangely soothing. He felt his shoulders sag slightly as the last degree of tension was released from him. He couldn't even feel the stiffness in his neck anymore. It had faded. Then Reed realized that he could no longer feel T'Pol's fingers either.

He opened his eyes and found himself sitting on the narrow metal bench of the decon chamber.

"Wow," Reed said.

A blue light suffused the room, giving it a surreal, almost dream-like atmosphere. Warm mist enveloped him. It caressed the bare skin of his gel-coated chest, back and limbs. Reed breathed a contented sigh.

"Lieutenant," T'Pol's voice sounded from somewhere outside the decon chamber.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to attempt the mind meld now. I want you to try to stay relaxed."

"Hmm."

When two fingers and a thumb landed on Reed's left cheek, they were so light that he barely felt their presence. Words flowed around him, but they were in a language he couldn't understand.

Then she was there, in the room, in his head: everywhere.

"Oh, my God...You did it."

"Oh, dear. I'm terribly sorry."

Reed could suddenly feel his cheeks burning and he knew it wasn't because of the warm mist of the decon chamber.

Reed rose from the bench immediately. Then, as he remembered that T'Pol was privy to his thoughts, he tried to control his temper.

*I want to take you back to the hall on Ilsa Minor. Can you picture the place in your mind? *

Reed reached for the door and suddenly found himself in the hall on Ilsa Minor, in full uniform. He blinked in astonishment then reached up to pull his sunglasses from his face.

Reed placed his sunglasses inside a pocket of his uniform and started walking towards the council-chamber.

Reed had pulled out his phase pistol and was running down the corridor.

Reed continued to sprint down the corridor.

Maybe the Captain was in another part of the building and nowhere near the explosion. Maybe he had managed to make it to safety before the bomb had gone off. Maybe he wasn't badly hurt.

Reed was about five metres from the council-chamber. The doors had been blown off their hinges, and smoke was billowing from the room in thick, acrid plumes.

He grabbed one of the doors to push it aside then leapt back with a yelp. He raised both hands, glancing at his red, blistering palms.

Reed lowered his hands instantly.

Reed started coughing as the smoke forced its way through his nostrils and down his throat. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he batted at them ineffectually with one hand.

Reed shook his head adamantly and, still coughing, squeezed through the gap between the damaged doors.

The smoke was even thicker inside the chamber. It was a solid wall that Reed couldn't breach.

"Captain! Captain!" he shouted.

His eyes were stinging and his chest ached from his attempts to draw air into his lungs. Reed battered down the wall all the same.

He squinted blearily at the indistinct shapes on the ground. He stumbled towards them, almost tripping on an outstretched arm. He recoiled, the heel of his left boot making contact with a solid object. He whirled around.

The Captain stared up at him from glassy, lifeless eyes.

"Lieutenant!"

Someone was shaking him. Reed thought vaguely that he should probably give some kind of response.

"Lieutenant, can you hear me? Please answer!"

A hand had grabbed him by the chin and he was being shaken harder now. Reed broke out of his trance and started coughing violently.

"Doctor, get him some water."

Soon Reed felt a glass being pushed into his shaking hands. T'Pol helped guide the glass to his lips. Closing his eyes, Reed took two long, grateful gulps. Then T'Pol pulled the glass from his fingers. Reed stared at her, still breathing heavily.

"I saw him too, Mr. Reed," she said quietly.

"Then it's true. He's really-?" Reed stopped speaking abruptly as Phlox began to run his scanner over him.

"Fortunately, you both appear to be fine," Phlox said. "Physically, at any rate," he added. "What exactly did you see?"

"The Captain," T'Pol stated flatly.

"Then you were able to access the memory? Well, that's wonderful! What happened to him? Do you know where he is?"

"He's dead," Reed said.

Reed wasn't sure how long he had been sitting in the dim candlelight. T'Pol and Phlox had left his quarters after a long, drawn out debate about whether the memory from the mind meld had been real.

T'Pol had argued staunchly that the memory had been real, that it would have been impossible for Reed to deceive her because she had been inside his mind and had experienced his emotions.

Phlox, while sympathetic, had reminded T'Pol that there wasn't any scientific evidence to support her claims, not even at the scene of the explosion itself. They hadn't been able to find any blood or tissue samples, not a single DNA molecule.

Reed had only heard about half of the argument. He didn't care about the scientific validity of the mind meld or his memory. He knew what he had seen: the Captain was dead.

When he had no longer been able to stand the droning in his ears, Reed had politely asked T'Pol and Phlox to leave. They had looked at him in surprise, and Reed had wondered at the time if it was because he had finally spoken or because they had forgotten he was there. However, they had obeyed his request immediately and left his quarters.

How long ago had that been? An hour? Two hours? And he was still sitting on a pillow on the floor.

He knew he should get up and complete the rest of his shift or, at the very least, find T'Pol. He didn't have the will or energy to pursue either task.

Another twenty minutes passed. Reed thought about moving but didn't. Then his door chimed.

"Come in," Reed said automatically.

His door swished open, and Commander Tucker walked into his quarters.

"Oh, hi, Trip."

Tucker stared at Reed for a few seconds, before grabbing the lieutenant by the shoulders and pulling him to his feet.

"Is it true?" Tucker demanded. "Is what T'Pol said true?"

"Yes," Reed answered.

"No. No, he can't be...There has to be some kind of mistake!"

"I saw him. T'Pol and I both saw him."

"Then you both need your heads examined!" Tucker released his hold on Reed's shoulders, and Reed staggered backwards. "What the hell were you thinking agreeing to that-that Vulcan mind merge?"

"Meld," Reed stated listlessly.

"'Merge,' 'meld'. Either way it was a stupid thing to do, Malcolm. Do you have any idea what happened to T'Pol the first time she tried it?"

"Yes, she told me the risks."

"And you still went through with it?" Tucker said in disbelief.

"I had to know the truth, Trip."

"The truth?" Tucker exclaimed. "Do you think what you saw was the truth?"

"Yes."

"'Yes'. Is that all you have to say?"

Reed looked at Tucker in confusion. "I...What am I supposed to say?"

"Well, you can stop acting like a frickin' robot for one thing and start speaking in more than monosyllables! What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I..." Reed suddenly felt very tired. He sat down on his bed.

"Please leave," he told Tucker.

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Well, that's tough, Lieutenant, because I'm not finished yet. Hell, I've barely even started." Tucker crossed his arms and planted both feet squarely on the ground. "You promised you wouldn't think the worst and would try to keep an open mind. What happened?"

Reed looked at Tucker sharply, and something startling occurred: he felt a twinge of emotion.

"You know, it's funny," Tucker continued. "Only this morning, T'Pol was telling me that you wouldn't stop searching until you had found the Captain--one way or another. So why have you given up, Malcolm?"

Reed closed his eyes for an instant and tried to breathe evenly.

"I told you already. I saw the Captain. He's dead."

"Is that a fact? Then I wonder why Doctor Phlox doesn't seem to believe you."

"He doesn't know anything. He wasn't there," Reed said firmly.

"But T'Pol was and I think even she's beginning to have her doubts."

"No...she was there. She said she saw him too," Reed said hoarsely, trying to fit the words around the lump forming in his throat.

"Malcolm," Tucker said gently, "how can you be sure of that? For all you know, it was just some random image pulled from your subconscious. You could have--"

Suddenly Reed was on his feet. The floodgates had opened.

"Do you think I would make up something like this?" he shouted. "Do you think I'm so fixated by death that the first image I would conjure up would be that? Oh, but I've forgotten. I'm the grim reaper, aren't I?"

"Malcolm--"

"I tried to believe. I tried not to give up hope. I did every damn thing I could think of to find him. I must have scoured every metre of Ilsa Minor. And I don't know how many scans I've taken, or how many times I've flown around that sodding planet!"

Reed folded his arms across his chest tightly.

"He's dead. I...I don't know what else to do." Reed's voice cracked on the last word, and it was all he could do to stop himself from shaking.

"Malcolm." Tucker reached out a hand, but Reed rushed past him and disappeared inside the head.

As the door closed, Reed released a long, shuddering sigh and, sliding down the wall, he sank to the floor. He drew his legs to his chest and rested his head on his knees.

The Captain was dead. He had failed him. He had allowed the Captain to walk into that building despite what his instincts had told him. He had let the Captain walk into a trap.

How was he going to face the crew after what he had done? How could he possibly tell them that he had failed the Captain, that it was his fault he was dead? How could he possibly live with that knowledge himself?

Tears began to roll down Reed's cheeks, unbidden. His heart was thudding so loudly that he almost didn't hear Tucker enter the bathroom.

Oh, God, Reed thought wildly. I forgot to lock the door.

He didn't look up but sat very still, hoping Tucker would leave. He didn't.

Reed felt Tucker's shoulder brush against his as Tucker squeezed into the tiny space beside him. A hand was on Reed's shoulder. The touch was tentative at first, but then the hand started to rub Reed's back, moving in circles.

"We'll get through this, Malcolm," Tucker whispered. "I promise."

This was hell. It had to be.

Reed sat up gingerly, his eyes screwed tightly shut, a hand clutching his throbbing head. Then his stomach heaved, and he just managed to reach the toilet before he began throwing up.

A few minutes later, he managed to raise himself on shaky limbs, holding on to his sink for dear life. He rinsed the acrid taste from his mouth and made his way back to his bed. That was when he stumbled across the empty bottle on his floor. Ah. That explained a lot.

Reed picked it up and almost burst into fresh tears when he recognized the well-travelled bottle of scotch. He had had it for years and had been saving it for a special occasion. He had hoped it would be a happy one: he had never imagined that he would finally sacrifice it at the Captain's wake. He doubted that it had been his father's intention either when he had given it to him. Reed wondered if his dad would approve.

He sat down on his bed, clutching the empty bottle to his chest. He gazed at his clock and almost laughed out loud. The one morning he hadn't managed to sleep in was the morning when the search had ended.

Reed eventually decided that he couldn't hide in his cabin, no matter how tempting the option was. He needed to speak to T'Pol.

He showered, shaved and changed into his uniform. He seemed to remember Tucker ordering him to take the day off. Reed decided that if Tucker confronted him, he would simply claim that he had forgotten. Most of last night was a big drunken blur, anyway.

Taking one last look in the mirror, Reed grimaced at the haggard face staring back at him. He could wear a blooming sign that read "Hangover" and it would be less obvious.

Maybe I should stop by sickbay, Reed thought. Then he remembered what Phlox had said after the mind meld yesterday and decided against it. Right now Phlox was one of the last people he wanted to see. It was a hangover. He would just have to live with it.

Reed left his quarters and walked briskly down the corridor, his head protesting every step of the way. Perhaps sickbay wasn't such a bad idea after all. He would willingly endure Phlox's smugness or even a lecture on the sins of alcohol if he could receive an analgesic first.

Reed was still debating the topic when he reached the lift. He pushed the button automatically then started slightly when the lift door opened. He stepped inside, still lost in thought.

"Morning, Malcolm."

"Good morning, Cap--" Reed froze and gaped at the lift's other occupant in shock.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Captain Archer said.

Reed stared at Archer for several seconds.

"You're...you're here," he finally gasped.

"Yes...I'm heading for the bridge. Why? Is there somewhere else you think I should be, Lieutenant?"

Yes, Reed thought, but I doubt you'd be happy if I told you. He placed a hand against his hammering temples and tried to remember if hangover symptoms ever included hallucinations. Could it be a side effect of the mind meld?

Archer's forehead had creased and he was frowning. He tilted his head to one side.

"Malcolm, are you okay? I know you're English, but I don't think even you're supposed to be this pale."

Humour him. Humour him until you can speak to T'Pol and Phlox.

"I'm fine, sir," Reed murmured. Archer shook his head.

"No, you look like hell. Do you think you're coming down with something? Maybe you should go to sickbay."

"Yes...maybe I should...after I speak to Sub-commander T'Pol."

"T'Pol?" Archer said in surprise. "Uh, okay."

Yes, it must be a hallucination, Reed decided. My imagination was never this good.

"So we're going to the bridge, then?" Archer asked. His finger was hovering in front of the lift panel, and Reed realized that they hadn't gone anywhere yet. Reed nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Archer pushed the button, his eyes still fixed on Reed.

They managed to reach the bridge without further incident. Reed wasn't exactly sure what the protocol was regarding hallucinations, so he erred on the side of caution and allowed Archer to exit the lift first. Besides, hallucination or not, the Captain still outranked him.

T'Pol. Must find T'Pol...

"Hey, where is everybody?" Archer demanded, gazing at an empty bridge. Suddenly four stunned faces appeared from the situation room.

"Captain!" T'Pol exclaimed before she could stop herself. Mayweather stood with his mouth open, and Hoshi started to cry.

"Son of a bitch!" Tucker shouted. He swept past T'Pol and threw his arms around a startled Archer.

"Uh...nice to see you too, Trip."

"Son of a bitch," Tucker repeated, more softly this time. He grinned broadly, despite the tears in his eyes. "I knew it. I knew it couldn't be true."

"Knew what couldn't be true? What the hell's going on?" Archer said, starting to sound nervous. He broke away from Tucker, which was fine with Tucker because he descended on Reed instead.

"You did it! I knew you could do it! You found him, Malcolm!"

"Yes...he was in the lift," Reed muttered. Tucker laughed and danced the unresisting armoury officer around in circles.

"I told you he wasn't dead! I can't believe you thought he was dead!"

Archer moved towards them immediately, his hand falling on Tucker's shoulder.

"Whoa, wait a minute. You thought I was...?" He whipped around to face T'Pol. "Oh, my God! What day is it?"

T'Pol studied Archer shrewdly for a moment then crossed to her station.

"Bridge to sickbay," she spoke into her com.

# Sickbay. #

"Doctor, it would seem that you were right about the Captain. He appears to be alive. Would you please come to the bridge to verify this fact?"

# He's on the bridge? #

"Yes, Doctor. Apparently, Lieutenant Reed found him in the lift."

# I see. How interesting. I'll come immediately. #

"Thank you, Doctor." T'Pol directed her attention back to the Captain, who was looking genuinely frightened.

"For God's sake, what day is it?" Archer cried.

"It's Friday," Mayweather said, managing to find his voice. "Friday the--"

"Friday? No, no! It's supposed to be Tuesday! He said it would be Tuesday!" Archer leaned heavily on the rail behind his chair, hanging his head.

"Who is 'he'?" T'Pol asked.

Archer raised his head and found his senior staff watching him intently.

"Daniels," Archer said quietly. "It was Daniels."

"Daniels?" Tucker blurted out. "As in time-travelling Daniels?"

"Yes, that Daniels." Archer favoured T'Pol with a brief smile. "And, yes, I'm well aware of the Vulcan Science Directorate's views on the subject." T'Pol raised an eyebrow but didn't refute Archer's statement.

"Daniels saved my life," Archer continued. "There was an explosion in the hall on Ilsa Minor. He pulled me out of time just before it happened."

Reed stared at Archer numbly. Daniels had been there? Daniels had saved the Captain?

"He said he was almost too late," Archer said, as if reading Reed's mind. "The explosion wasn't a part of the established timeline." Archer sighed. "It looks like someone has violated the Temporal Accord--again."

"Silik?" T'Pol asked.

"Yes...but it's a little more complicated than that. Silik didn't plant the bomb. He had an accomplice: Colonel Grat."

"But-but that's crazy," Tucker said. "Grat hates the Suliban. He-he ran that detention camp."

Archer grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, apparently Grat hates me more."

"But why?"

"Because of what happened at the detention camp," Mayweather answered. "He wants revenge."

"You got it in one, Travis. When we helped free the Suliban from the camp, Grat was stripped of his rank and discharged from the Tandaran military," Archer explained. "He's feeling a little...bitter."

"A 'little'?" Tucker exclaimed. "Captain, he tried to kill you! Hell, yesterday Malcolm and T'Pol were convinced that you were dead!" Archer glanced at both Reed and T'Pol, but neither officer seemed to notice him.

"We saw him," T'Pol said, looking directly at Reed. "We both saw him."

Reed met the accusing gaze, though it was painful to do so.

"I...I don't know what to tell you. I-I didn't make it up. He was lying there with...with his eyes--"

The truth suddenly hit him: it hadn't been the Captain.

"Malcolm. Malcolm, what's wrong?" Tucker demanded, shaking the dazed armoury officer by the shoulder. But Reed's eyes were still fixed on T'Pol.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "It was the wrong memory."

"The wrong memory?" T'Pol questioned. "But how is that possible? We saw the Captain."

Reed shook his head miserably, lost for an answer.

"What are you two talking about?" Archer asked. "What's all this about wrong memories and seeing me dead? What the hell's been happening while I was gone?" He gazed at Reed in concern. "Malcolm?"

"I'm sorry," Reed said. "I can't be here right now."

"What?"

Reed started walking towards the lift.

"Malcolm!"

The lift door opened and Phlox almost collided with Reed.

"Excuse me, Doctor."

"Why, yes. Yes, of course." Phlox moved to one side as Reed stepped into the lift. "Lieutenant, are you all right? You don't look--"

The lift door closed, cutting Reed off from the bridge. He pressed the button for B-deck and rested his pounding head against the cool metal wall beside him. When the lift reached B-deck, he lifted his head reluctantly and stepped off.

Reed had only walked part way to his quarters, when he stopped in the middle of the corridor and considered what he had just done. He had reported for duty with a hangover, ignored the Captain's request for information, and had deserted his post--all in the space of about five minutes. If Phlox could prove, scientifically, that the man standing on the bridge was in fact Captain Jonathan Archer, he was in a lot of trouble.

But you should be happy, Reed thought. The Captain's alive. Despite the odds that were stacked against him, he survived. So why aren't you happy?

It's because you weren't the one to save him: Daniels was. Daniel swooped in once again, in the literal nick of time, to rescue the Captain after you failed to protect him. If Daniels hadn't appeared, the Captain would be dead because you didn't do your job properly. That's why you're unhappy.

"Lieutenant."

Reed jumped as T'Pol's hand fell on his arm. How the hell had she managed to sneak up on him like that?

"Look, if you're here to lecture me on proper bridge protocol--"

"What did you mean when you said it was 'the wrong memory'?" T'Pol asked, her hand still clamped firmly on Reed's arm.

"I meant just that. It...it was the wrong memory. I don't know how it happened. It's as if I tried to remember what happened to the Captain, but came across another memory instead. Perhaps I wanted to see the Captain so badly that..." Reed shook his head in frustration.

"Are you saying that the man we saw wasn't Captain Archer? But if it wasn't the Captain, who was it?"

"It doesn't matter. The Captain's alive. He's back again. It doesn't matter now."

Reed tried to pull his arm free and found that T'Pol's grip was deceptively strong.

"If you remember the event, it was obviously significant," T'Pol argued. "Who was it, Lieutenant? I need to know."

Reed glared at her but she wouldn't back down.

"Fine," he said angrily. "Jerrett. His name was Jerrett. Commander Adam Jerrett. He was my C.O."

T'Pol released Reed's arm and he immediately began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" T'Pol demanded, following Reed down the corridor.

"My quarters. I've never deserted my post before, but I assume my best course of action at this point would be to confine myself to my quarters until the Captain decides how he plans to discipline me."

"I could speak to the Captain on your behalf," T'Pol said. Reed stopped immediately.

"You...you would do that for me?"

"Yes."

"Well, thank you. That's extremely kind of you."

"It's not kindness, Lieutenant. Enterprise needs its armoury officer."

Reed winced as the cynic inside him refuted her statement.

"Do you really believe that, Sub-commander?" he dared to ask. T'Pol raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes, of course I do. Why wouldn't I, Lieutenant?"

"Well...it's just that after everything that's happened, I would have thought--"

"If you think I blame you for any of these events, you are mistaken."

Reed stared at T'Pol, rendered speechless for an instant.

"I...Thank you, Sub-commander," he said at last. T'Pol nodded.

"I will speak to the Captain. I would advise you to go to your quarters, as you suggested, and attempt to recover from your hangover."

"What?" Reed gasped. "How-how did you that-?"

"I've been around humans, Starfleet officers in particular, long enough to recognize the symptoms of a hangover, Lieutenant."

Reed slept for nearly three hours. When he woke, he found that his headache had decreased substantially and his stomach had apparently settled because he was hungry instead of nauseous. As his stomach growled to inform Reed of this fact, he began to wish that he had taken the time to gather some provisions before he had confined himself to his quarters. It was a pity that Starfleet hadn't fitted their cabins with protein re-sequencers. If he still had a job at the end of the day, perhaps he would send them his suggestion.

As Reed could do nothing at present to relieve his hunger, he decided to tidy his quarters. He picked up the pillow that hadn't made the trip from the floor back to his bed, and decided to place T'Pol's candle on his desk until he had the opportunity to return it to her. He re-discovered the empty scotch bottle between the wall and the mattress when he made his bed.

He sat down on his chair and stared at the bottle in his hands. It was the last present his father had given to him, the last present his father was ever likely to give him, and he had drank it all during a wake for a man who wasn't even dead.

Reed gave a hollow laugh and threw the bottle against the opposite wall.

"Now was that absolutely necessary, Lieutenant?" a voice asked. Reed flew out of his chair, looking around wildly for the intruder.

His eyes fell on an ensign standing beside his desk. The ensign was about average height with dark hair and a high forehead. He seemed familiar, though Reed knew he wasn't serving on Enterprise. At least, not anymore...

"How the hell did you get in here, Daniels?"

"I didn't think you would remember me, Lieutenant!" Daniels said, beaming brightly. "I didn't think I had made much of an impression on you during my brief stay on Enterprise."

Reed crossed his arms and glared at Daniels.

"How did you get in here, Ensign?"

Daniels' smile faded and he took on the semblance of seriousness. He lifted his hand to reveal the same device the Captain had used to walk through a bulkhead to repair a power relay.

"You walked through the wall?" Reed asked in disbelief.

"I wasn't sure if you'd let me in," Daniels admitted sheepishly.

"So you barged through my wall instead?"

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but it was an emergency. I'm afraid we have a situation..."

"I don't care about your bloody situation!" Reed cried. "You barged through my wall and invaded my privacy! Has no one in the future heard of the concept of knocking, or are you all just rude?"

Daniels lowered the phase device and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Lieutenant Reed, you have my sincerest apologies for the intrusion and for everything you've gone through in the last few days. I can understand why you're upset, but--"

"Who says I'm upset?" Reed snapped. Daniels' eyes flicked to the shards of glass on the floor, but he chose not to comment.

"What do you want?" Reed said. Daniels bit his lip.

"I need your help."

"My help?" Reed said in surprise. "Why would you need my help? I'm just an armoury officer, not Doctor bloody Who."

Daniels laughed. "'Doctor bloody Who'. That's good." Then he noticed that Reed hadn't cracked as much as a smile. "Oh, you're serious." Daniels ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Look, Lieutenant, I messed up. I'll admit it. I screwed up big time."

"You'll get no argument from me," Reed muttered.

"Time is a delicate, complicated business."

"So is defusing a Romulan mine. Your point, Ensign?"

"Colonel Grat is going to attack Enterprise in approximately fifteen minutes."

"WHAT?" Reed shouted. Then his door chimed. "WHO THE HELL IS IT NOW?"

The door opened and a slightly confused and anxious Jonathan Archer peeked inside.

"Uh, is this a bad time?"

"Actually, Captain, your timing is perfect," Daniels stated. "I wasn't expecting you for at least another two minutes."

"Daniels! How the hell did you get in here?" Archer demanded, walking into Reed's cabin. Daniels lifted his hand and displayed the phase device.

"Oh, I should have known. I bet that went over well." Archer cast an amused but sympathetic glance at Reed, who had stood at attention as soon as Archer had entered the room.

"We messed up, Daniels. It's Friday," Archer said.

"I know, Captain. That's why I'm here," Daniels said, suddenly taking great interest in the device on his hand.

"Oh, no, don't tell me we're going back in time again," Archer groaned. Reed's head snapped in Archer's direction and his military stance was gone.

"No, unfortunately," Daniels answered.

"'Unfortunately'? Why 'unfortunately'?"

"We have a situation, Captain. The situation we were trying to avoid in the first place by sending you back in time..."

"What?" Archer said. Then his eyes widened.

"Oh, hell! I completely forgot about Grat! How much time do we have until...?"

"I'd say about fourteen minutes."

"Fourteen minutes?" Archer exclaimed. "Are you serious?" Archer turned and would have rushed for the door if Daniels hadn't placed a hand on his arm.

"Where are you going?"

"To the bridge. Where do you think I'm going?"

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Oh, you don't, do you? You tell me that Grat is about to attack my ship and you think going to the bridge is a bad idea?" Archer pulled his arm free. "You're nuts, Daniels."

"Captain--"

"Malcolm, are you coming?" I know you're...not feeling well, but we could really use you at tactical right now."

"He shouldn't go either," Daniels said before Reed even had the chance to open his mouth.

"I don't have time for this right now, Daniels!" Archer barked and he turned to the door again.

"Sir, perhaps we should listen to him," Reed suggested. He had been watching Daniels throughout the exchange and could see that Daniels was growing increasingly agitated. Whatever his reasons were for keeping the Captain off the bridge, he obviously thought they were important.

Archer studied Reed for a moment then nodded grudgingly. "All right, you've got two minutes, Daniels."

"Thank you," Daniels said, smiling at Reed gratefully. "I'll make this as brief as I can. Captain, it's imperative that you leave the ship before Grat gets here."

"You want me to leave? But I'm the Captain. I'm supposed to be taking charge, setting an example."

"If you stay here, there's every chance that Grat will kill you. He almost succeeded once."

"Yes, when I wasn't on Enterprise. At least here I have some chance. I know this ship and its defences. Grat doesn't," Archer argued, placing his hands on his hips.

"You'd have a better chance on the planet, Captain. There'd be more-more..."

"Places to hide?" Archer asked sarcastically.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it that way, exactly, but--"

"No, Daniels, you can forget it."

Both men glared at each other, neither one willing to surrender.

We don't have time for this, Reed thought.

"Daniels, I don't understand," he said aloud. "Why is Grat even an issue? If you saved the Captain before by pulling him out of time, then why can't you just go back and fix things?" Daniels smiled sadly and shook his head.

"I wish I could but I can't. I already intervened when I saved the Captain and tried to take him back to the day of the explosion on Ilsa Minor. And we all know how that turned out." Daniels and Archer exchanged looks and grimaced. "Lieutenant, if I try to alter the timeline again, there could be serious repercussions in the future."

"So, in other words, we're stuck here," Archer said. Daniels nodded glumly, his eyes falling on the phase device again.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. That's why it's so important for you to find a safe place, a-a bunker."

"I won't leave this ship. And I won't leave my crew to Grat's mercy and run with my tail between my legs," Archer stated, his tone permitting no argument. Somehow Reed wasn't surprised when Daniels still tried.

"Captain, if you're killed then all of our hard work and all the pain your crew has just suffered, especially Lieutenant Reed, will be for nothing."

"I..." Archer hesitated, his eyes falling on Reed. Daniels pounced.

"Grat isn't interested in killing your crew. He proved that when he saved Lieutenant Reed."

"When he did what?" Reed cried.

"Colonel Grat pulled you from the hall on Ilsa Minor when you went in after Captain Archer," Daniels explained. Reed raised a hand to the back of his head. "He, uh, had to knock you out first. You wouldn't go willingly."

"Oh, that would explain why I don't remember seeing him there. Of course, as I can't remember entering the hall in the first place..."

"Daniels, while I'm grateful to Grat for saving Malcolm," Archer said, "he hasn't exactly given me any other reason to trust his good intentions."

"How about my good intentions? Do you trust them?" Daniels asked.

"You'd hardly be standing here if I didn't."

"And I wouldn't ask you to leave Enterprise and your crew if I didn't think it was absolutely crucial. Captain, please."

Archer held Daniels' gaze for a long time.

"Malcolm, what do you think?"

Reed started in surprise. "Me, sir?"

"Well, yes, you're my tactical officer. I value your advice," Archer said. Reed took a deep breath.

"Well, it would seem to me that if you trust Daniels, and he believes that Grat might kill you, then you should leave the ship."

"And you believe this is the right thing to do?" Archer persisted, still sounding doubtful.

"Under the circumstances, yes. Yes, I think it's the right thing to do, sir."

Archer sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"May I at least contact my first officer and tell her what's going on?"

"Of course, Captain. I'd think less of you if you didn't," Daniels said cheerfully.

"Oh, well, we couldn't have that," Archer muttered. He moved to Reed's com and contacted the bridge. Reed found his boots and sat down on his bed.

"I assume you'll be stopping by the armoury first so the Captain can get kitted up," Reed said, sliding into his left boot.

"I'm afraid there won't be time, Lieutenant." Reed's mouth fell open and he almost dropped his other boot.

"You're sending the Captain down there unarmed?" Reed snorted in disgust. He quickly threw the other boot on and went to his locker. Then, reaching under a pile of neatly-folded shirts, he pulled out an EM-33. Archer, who had finished speaking to T'Pol, stared at the particle weapon in Reed's hand.

"You keep an EM-33 in your locker?" he asked in disbelief. "Who do you think you are? James Bond?"

"No, just Reed...Malcolm Reed," the armoury officer quipped, flashing Archer a quick smile. Then he held out the gun. "Here, you might need this, sir."

Daniels cleared his throat and laughed nervously.

"Actually, Lieutenant, I was hoping you would escort us to the transporter room. While I'm sure your transporter shouldn't be too difficult to use, I'd appreciate your help just in case."

"Whoa, hold on a minute!" Archer said. "Did you just say 'transporter'? Aren't I taking a shuttlepod?"

"It's too risky. Grat might spot it. Besides, this will be faster."

"But-but the transporter...?"

"We should get going," Daniels said. Then he tapped the device on his hand and walked through the door without opening it. Archer rolled his eyes.

"This is going to be fun." Archer hit the button on Reed's door panel, and both men left the armoury officer's quarters the old-fashioned way. Daniels was waiting patiently for them in the corridor. When he caught sight of Archer and Reed, he started striding rapidly towards the transporter room. Wielding his gun, Reed matched Daniels' pace, while Archer brought up the rear. They had only just entered the lift when Reed's tactical alert siren began blaring.

"I'm guessing that isn't good," Daniels said.

"I don't suppose you scheduled a drill for today did you, Malcolm?" Archer asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, sir. I think the Tandarans have just put in an appearance."

Archer turned to Daniels immediately. "But you said--"

"They must have moved up the timetable," Daniels groaned. "Damn Silik."

The door opened and the three men tumbled out of the lift, running towards the transporter room.

"I should contact the bridge!" Archer yelled.

"There isn't time!" Daniels said, grabbing Archer's arm as if he feared the Captain might head for the nearest com.

The group was just coming to the final bend before the transporter room, when a shot whipped past Archer's head.

"Back!" Reed shouted, and Archer and Daniels dodged back around the corner. Reed leapt after them, pressing flat against the bulkhead. Raising his particle weapon, he peered carefully into the adjoining corridor. He spotted his target and, remembering to compensate for particle drift, he fired. The Tandaran jumped back with a yelp. The shot had grazed his shoulder. However, it hadn't been enough to stun him.

"Bloody hangover," Reed grumbled, firing again. This time he hit the Tandaran's chest and the enemy pitched forward.

Only one? That's odd, Reed thought. However, as far as Archer was concerned, one was enough.

"How the hell did he get on my ship?" Archer demanded, as Reed pulled back against the bulkhead. "No, wait, don't tell me," he added as Daniels opened his mouth. "Silik, right?"

"If Grat wanted to board this ship without Silik's help, he would have to dock his own ship with Enterprise, so I fear your suspicions are probably correct," Daniels stated. "Damn Silik."

"Sir, I'm going to move up the corridor and check if the rest of the way is clear," Reed said, believing that now wasn't the time to discuss Grat's tactics.

"Okay, but be careful," Archer ordered.

"Aye, sir." Reed pushed off the bulkhead and started down the connecting corridor at a brisk jog. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the EM-33. It had been much too easy to bring down that Tandaran. Reed could smell a trap.

When he reached the transporter room, he looked around cautiously before opening the door. Aiming his gun, he slipped into the room. Then he darted out again as a volley of weapons greeted him. Reed ran back down the corridor, diving beside Archer and Daniels breathlessly.

"There are more of them in the transporter room," Reed panted. "They've got it blocked off."

"How many?" Archer asked.

"Not sure. Six. Maybe seven. I didn't even get a chance to fire off a shot. I was lucky to get out of there at all." Archer closed his eyes, suddenly looking very serious.

"I guess it's time to go to Plan B," he said.

"Plan B?" Daniels questioned.

Archer's eyes snapped open. "You do have another plan...don't you?"

Daniels smiled weakly. "Getting you off the ship was the plan."

Archer's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me that you could walk through Malcolm's wall and travel back in time to save me from an explosion, seconds before it happened, and yet you couldn't come up with a backup plan?" Daniels blushed, looking away awkwardly.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Captain, I've been a little busy. I am human: there are only so many things I can do at one time."

The group fell silent, each man trying to think of a solution.

Reed knew that they wouldn't be able to get off the ship--not with only three men and one gun. If they could make it to the armoury, they could pick up more weapons, at least, which would help balance out the odds to some degree. However, they would still be outnumbered and the plan was risky at best. What they needed was a safe haven on the ship itself, a place where Grat couldn't get to the Captain.

Reed's mind flashed to the armoury again. It was the safest place he could think of: the lockers full of weapons alone proved that point. Then he thought of another reason why the armoury might suit their purposes.

"Daniels, have the Tandarans developed force field technology yet?"

Daniels considered the question for a moment, a smile slowly appearing on his face.

"Why, no, Lieutenant, I don't believe they have. Would you happen to have access to such technology yourself? If I'm not mistaken, you were-are experimenting with EM-barriers, aren't you?"

Reed smiled himself. "Yes, I am. I've been testing them in the armoury, an excellent choice for a bunker by the way."

"Oh, I absolutely agree. I think it would be the perfect choice."

"Excuse me, but do I get a say in any of this?" Archer demanded.

"I thought you valued the advice of your tactical officer," Reed retorted.

"Well, of course I do. It's just that...this isn't an alien creature you're trying to repel in the cargo bay. These are soldiers with weapons."

"Captain, the main reason I became interested in the EM-barrier in the first place was its potential as a shield against particle weapons. Most of the tests I've run have involved phase pistols, and the barrier will now hold 75 to 80% of the time. I've seen the weapons the Tandarans are using. Even the EM-33 is more effective than they are," Reed said, raising the particle weapon in his hand as if to illustrate his point.

"All right, all right, you win!" Archer cried. "We'll head to the armoury!"

"Very good, sir," Reed replied, trying not to smirk. The three men stood up quickly.

"Captain, I think Lieutenant Reed can handle things from here," Daniels said. "I'd like to find your first officer and see if I can be of any assistance."

"I'd appreciate that, Daniels, though I think I should warn you that--"

"The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible. Yes, I know, Captain," Daniels said with a yawn. "However, I feel responsible for what's happened. I'd like to help if I can."

"Won't that disrupt the timeline?" Reed asked.

"Lieutenant, this timeline has already been disrupted. I'm afraid this is just damage control."

"Well, we'd still be grateful for any help you can give us all the same," Archer said. He held out his hand, and Daniels shook it solemnly. Then he glanced at Reed and, raising his phase device, he walked through the bulkhead.

Reed stared after him for an instant in confusion. Had Daniels just winked at him or had he imagined it?

"Is there something wrong, Malcolm?" Reed looked away from the bulkhead.

"No, nothing at all, sir. If you're ready, I think we'd best be on our way." Archer nodded and they both took off towards the armoury.

They didn't meet up with any other soldiers until they reached the armoury itself. Two of Grat's men had been posted outside as guards. Reed shot the first soldier before he had time to react, while Archer launched himself on the second man, trying to grab his gun. Reed waited until he had a clear shot then fired on the second soldier as well.

"There could be more of them inside, sir. You'd better stay here until I've checked it out," Reed said.

"All right," Archer said, though he didn't sound happy about it. He placed his hand over the door panel and, after a nod from Reed, opened the door. Reed burst inside the armoury, aiming the EM-33.

The room appeared to be empty at first. Then Reed spotted a man with a Starfleet uniform lying beside one of the weapons lockers. Reed rushed to the man's side and felt for a pulse.

"Is he okay?" Archer asked, hurrying towards them.

"I think he's just been stunned, sir." Reed turned the man over gently. "It's Billy."

Archer placed a hand on Reed's back. "You'd better start setting up that force field before any more Tandarans show up."

"Yes, sir. Oh, sir, you'd better take this in case any more of them do show up." Reed handed Archer the EM-33. "I won't be able to hold it and set up the EM-barrier at the same time, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry, Lieutenant, I'll watch your back."

"Actually, I was more concerned about your back, sir, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same," Reed said. Then he walked to the locker where he had stored the EM-barrier equipment.

Reed was glad that Daniels hadn't tried to fix the timeline by sending the Captain back in time, for if he had sent him back too far they wouldn't have a working force field. The first time that Reed had managed to create an EM-barrier that could span the entire armoury had only been two weeks ago.

He had needed to boost the energy output for each of the meters substantially before he could control the particle density and generate a force field that would hold. He had managed to cause an overload in meters A and D when he had run the initial tests. Tucker had accused Reed of blowing up the meters himself when he had seen the damage.

As Reed began fastening the first two meters to the far wall of the armoury, he wished he could have run even one more test. While he was confident that the EM-barrier could withstand just about anything the Tandarans tried to throw at it, he wasn't exactly sure how long it could last in the long run. To date he had never activated the EM-barrier for more than two or three hours at a time. After the first disastrous overloads, he had treated the meters a little more gently.

"Malcolm, are you sure this is going to work?" Archer asked nervously as Reed walked past him to attach the remaining two meters to the bulkhead closest to the door. "That's a pretty big force field you're trying to generate."

"Of course it'll work," Reed said, trying to sound convincing. Archer seemed to accept his assurances, as he didn't question Reed's plan any further.

When Reed had finished making adjustments to meter C, he picked up the control device for the force field and activated the EM-barrier. Now it was time to find out if it was actually working.

"Sir, would you be kind enough to fire at the EM-barrier for me?"

"Sure." Archer raised the EM-33 Reed had given him and pointed it at the force field. The shot hit the armoury door.

"Oh, dear," Reed said.

"Malcolm..."

"I just need to make some final calibrations, sir," Reed said, moving quickly to the other side of the armoury to fix meter B. He shook his head as he studied the device in his hand. Off by almost 5.7 microns. That was appalling.

Reed had just adjusted the setting on meter B and was taking a look at meter D when he heard an ominous sound. The armoury door was opening.

"Malcolm!"

Reed saw Archer's eyes widen. Archer lifted the EM-33 and aimed, but the only shots Reed could hear came from outside the armoury. Then Archer was lowering his weapon, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

"It works," he announced.

"Uh, yes, it certainly does," Reed said a little breathlessly. He walked to the nearest weapons locker.

"What are you doing?" Archer asked.

"Making sure we're kitted up properly, sir." Reed grabbed two phase pistols and holsters. Then he gazed longingly at the sleek, shiny rifles and took two of those as well.

"Malcolm, there's only us. Even if Billy regains consciousness, he probably won't be in any state to handle a weapon."

"Still, it never hurts to be prepared." Reed handed Archer a phase pistol and kept the other three weapons for himself. Archer raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He went and plopped down on the base of the port launch tube.

"We could be here for a while so we'd might as well get comfortable."

"Yes, that's probably a good idea, sir," Reed said, laying the rifles down on the starboard launch tube while he placed his phase pistol in its holster. "There's no use in us both standing around while I'm keeping watch."

Reed reached for one of the rifles, but Archer crossed to the starboard launch tube and slapped his hand down over the weapon before Reed could lift it.

"If the door opens, you'll be able to hear it from here," Archer argued.

"If the door opens, it'll mean someone's attacking the armoury, sir."

"What's the matter, Lieutenant? Are you afraid your force field won't work?"

"Of course it will work. You were there just now. You saw it--" His words came to an abrupt halt, but it was already too late. He had walked into Archer's trap. He would look pretty silly now if he stood guard at a door that was protected by a working force field. And, as the Captain had said, they would hear the door once it opened. They were only a few metres away.

Reed released the rifle and sat down on the base of the starboard launch tube. Archer returned to his original spot, sitting directly across from Reed.

Well, this is terribly awkward, Reed thought as the silence began to stretch between them.

It wasn't that Reed had a problem with silence. There were times when he revelled in it. No, it was the Captain he was worried about. Archer hated silence. He would want to chat because it calmed his nerves. He'd want to talk about what had happened on the bridge, what had been happening for the last three days.

"So, Malcolm, how are you feeling?"

Damn.

"I'm fine, sir."

"Are you? You still look like hell to me," Archer said, scrutinizing Reed from the starboard launch tube. "That must have been some wake."

Bloody hell! I'm going to kill Trip, Reed thought savagely. Then he realized that Archer had probably known about the hangover already. Tucker had simply filled in the missing details. Well, denial was obviously out of the question in any case.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know, sir," Reed admitted. "I really can't remember much of it."

"Hmm. From what I've heard, you've had a lot of trouble with your memory lately." Reed gazed down at his boots forlornly.

"I know, sir." Reed didn't raise his head to gauge Archer's reaction. He was pretty sure he didn't want to see the expression on that face.

"I realize this isn't exactly the time or place to be saying this, sir, but I'd like to apologize for my behaviour on the bridge earlier. It was unacceptable and I feel I should be disciplined."

There was a long pause and, as Reed couldn't bear the suspense any longer, he looked up and met the green eyes across from him.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm," Archer said, "but that's just not good enough."

"I beg your pardon?" Reed croaked, staring at Archer in genuine confusion.

"We need to talk, Malcolm."

"About what, sir? I've already apologized for my behaviour on the bridge."

"I don't care about what happened on the bridge or, rather, I do care but not about whether you broke some stupid regulation. What I want to know is how you're doing. Trip said the last three days have been pretty rough for you."

"They've been rough for the whole crew, sir," Reed stated quickly.

"The whole crew didn't wake up with a hangover this morning, Lieutenant."

Reed flinched then crossed his arms to try to hide his reaction.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm, that was a low blow," Archer said an instant later.

"No, it wasn't. You're right. It was irresponsible of me to--"

"Malcolm, it's okay. Trip said you were upset. He thought you could use a serious drink."

"Yes, well, I doubt that Commander Tucker intended for me to drink a whole bottle of scotch, especially since you weren't even dead." Reed shook his head in disgust. "He didn't believe it, and yet he still stuck around last night and listened to me blather on about...Lord knows what. God, I must have sounded pathetic."

"I'm sure that's not true, Malcolm."

"How do you know?" Reed snapped. "You weren't--"

Temper, Malcolm. You're not supposed to contradict superior officers during a dressing-down.

"Trip's an excellent listener. He has this...innate ability to get people to open up and share their problems, even if it was never their intention in the first place," Archer said, gazing steadily at Reed.

"Yes, I suppose he does."

"Of course, he isn't a mind reader."

"No, he--"

Reed froze as the full meaning of Archer's words became apparent.

"Sub-commander T'Pol told you, didn't she?"

"About the mind meld? Yes, she did. And I can't say I'm very happy about what she told me. It was stupid and dangerous. You could have both been hurt."

"We did what we thought was right. We thought that if we could retrieve my lost memory, we'd be able to find you."

"But it didn't work, did it?" Archer said. Reed leapt to his feet, unwilling to bear Archer's scrutiny any longer.

"I was wrong, all right? I'm sorry. It was insane of me to believe that...that what we saw was you."

"T'Pol believed it too."

"The only reason she believed it was because..."

"Because it was a real memory, Malcolm. You tried to remember what happened on the planet and ended up stumbling across another memory instead. Doctor Phlox believes that you confused the two events, and your brain worked to bridge the gaps and fill in the missing details."

"He would believe that," Reed muttered angrily.

"And what do you believe?"

"I was wrong. I was just wrong." Reed massaged his right temple. It was aching again. "Can we change the subject, sir?" he asked.

"Sure, if you promise to sit down and stop pacing." Reed nodded and did what the Captain requested.

"So...what should we talk about?" Archer said.

"I don't know. I'll leave the choice up to you, sir."

"All right, then. If you wouldn't mind, I'd really like to talk about Adam Jerrett," Archer said.

Suddenly Reed was on his feet again and heading for the door. Archer ran in front of him, blocking his path.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"She had no right to tell you!" Reed cried. "It was private! I-I trusted her!"

"Malcolm, I asked her to tell me, and...she said she was concerned about you."

"Concerned?" Reed exclaimed. "She's a Vulcan for God's sake!"

"Well, she was concerned all the same, and when T'Pol's concerned I know there's a problem."

"Then perhaps you and she can discuss it--that is if Grat doesn't kill you."

"I don't want to talk about it with T'Pol. I want to talk about it with you."

"I don't think so." Reed tried to move past the Captain, but Archer had him firmly by the shoulders.

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear, Lieutenant. That wasn't a request."

"And perhaps I haven't made myself clear. Go to hell, sir."

Archer was so stunned that his hands fell from Reed's shoulders. Reed had almost reached the EM-barrier, when Archer grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back to the torpedo bay. Reed barely had a chance to struggle before he found himself sitting back on the base of the starboard launch tube.

"If you want to go out there and get yourself killed, that's fine," Archer growled, "but we'll talk about Jerrett first."

Reed glared at Archer venomously, though he made no move to escape.

"I know what happened to Jerrett," Archer continued. "I remember hearing about it at the time and I looked over the records after I had spoken to T'Pol."

"Then why do you need me here?" Reed demanded coldly.

"Because I need to know how you fit in, Malcolm. Your name doesn't appear anywhere in the records. I know Jerrett was your C.O. before he was given command of Mars Station Alpha, but you stayed in San Francisco. You wouldn't have been on the station when...Oh my God, you were there, weren't you?"

Reed looked down and said nothing.

"Malcolm, I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" Reed laughed mirthlessly. "You've done anything but help!"

"Then let me help you now. Talk to me. Tell me what happened."

Reed crossed his arms stubbornly, adhering to silence. "You know I'm going to keep bugging you until you tell me, don't you?"

"Christ almighty!" Reed exploded. "Why the hell do you care? It was years ago! You weren't even there!"

"But you were!" Archer said, his voice rising as well. Then he ran a hand wearily across his face. "Please, Malcolm. I just want to know what happened."

"You want to know what happened? Fine!" Reed's eyes flashed briefly at Archer. Then he lowered them again, lost in thought.

"If you've read the reports, you'll know about the tensions between Starfleet and the Mars colony over Station Alpha," Reed said a few moments later, his tone devoid of emotion.

"The colonists believed that Starfleet was trying to encroach on their territory."

"It was more than that. They believed that Starfleet wanted to take over the colony, to shatter the system of self-rule they had established for themselves. It wasn't long after Mars Station Alpha had been built that Starfleet started receiving threats from the colony. Those were still the circumstances when Jerrett took over the station.

"It wasn't long before Jerrett understood just how bad the situation was. On his first day at the station, he received a threatening letter from a group of radicals calling themselves 'The Children of Mars'. Jerrett tried to laugh it off at first, but when the number of letters escalated and included threats to Alpha itself, Jerrett knew that something had to be done. He tried to negotiate with the group, see if they could come to some kind of agreement. But they just wouldn't have it. In fact, Jerrett's attempts to make peace only seemed to anger them more."

Reed remembered the message Jerrett had sent him describing the events and almost shuddered.

"I'm not exactly sure why Jerrett asked me to come to Alpha. He said it was because I had a good head for tactics, but I think he had already guessed what was coming..."

"The bombs?" Archer asked quietly. Reed looked up with a start.

"Yes, the bombs," he whispered. Then he cleared his throat. "I took some leave from my posting in San Francisco and went to Alpha. It was because I was on leave and not there in any official capacity, that my name doesn't appear in any of the Starfleet records. The only reference you'll find to me on Alpha will be in my own records, and you'd have to see Phlox about those."

Archer's eyes widened, and Reed looked away again.

"I hadn't been at Alpha two days before the bomb threat came in. We evacuated all the civilian and non-essential personnel and began sweeping the station for the bomb." Reed took a deep breath, the arms over his chest tightening. "We found it taped under one of the tables in the commissary. Jerrett and I crawled under the table, and he held the flashlight while I took a look. It-it wasn't overly complicated, but I thought the job would be simpler if I had a micro-caliper.

"Jerrett asked one of the members of his security team to find one, but the crewman had absolutely no idea what one looked like, nor did anyone else on the team. As one of Alpha's engineers had been sent to help with the evacuation and I hadn't a clue where the other one was, I told Jerrett I would find the micro-caliper myself. It seemed faster than tracking down the engineer. Jerrett agreed and said they'd wait there for me. I told him it would be better if he and his team left the area. We had located the bomb, and there was nothing else they could do. He refused, of course. Said that if his team didn't know what a micro-caliper was, they'd better stay and try to learn something."

Reed released a shaky laugh, but didn't dare look up. He could feel the tears forming behind his eyes.

"It was so stupid," he choked out. "If that greedy pig Ferrick had just waited a few minutes..."

"The other bomb was in the beverage dispenser," Archer said. "It was set to go off as soon as someone pressed one of the buttons, but it was so small that none of your scanners detected it."

"Small but powerful. It killed them all instantly. If I had returned to the commissary just a minute sooner..."

"Oh, God. Malcolm--" Archer began.

"I finally met the engineer," Reed said quickly. "Nice chap. Big fellow. He held me back when I tried to go back in there. I had to go back in, you see, because of the bomb."

"But if the bomb in the beverage dispenser had already gone off--"

"It didn't trigger the other bomb. I would have known if it had. There was enough explosive there to take out at least half the station, and as the rest of us were still standing..."

"You went in to defuse the bomb."

"Yes," Reed answered, his voice threadbare.

"Then you saw them...You saw their bodies."

Reed covered his face with his hands and nodded.

"I can't even begin to imagine how horrible that must have been," Archer said softly. He rose slowly from the port launch tube and sat down beside Reed.

"Don't!" Reed hissed, before Archer's hand could land on his shoulder. "Just...just don't."

Archer pulled his hand back immediately, staring at Reed helplessly. The minutes passed in eery silence, only Reed's shallow breaths marking the passage of time. When he finally did speak, Archer almost fell off the launch tube.

"He was just like you," came the muffled voice behind Reed's hands.

"Who? Jerrett?"

Reed lifted his head from his hands, inhaling sharply.

"Yes. He was always trying to get me to open up, talk about things outside of work, like hobbies and my family. He even liked sports, though I don't know what he would have thought of water polo. Football was his obsession."

"Trip likes football," Archer ventured when Reed grew quiet again.

"Yes, I've heard." Reed smiled slightly. Then the look faded. "Jerrett was sympathetic towards those terrorists, you know. Even though they hated Starfleet and wanted to destroy the station, he still respected their ideals."

"Is that so terrible? That's why we're out here, isn't it? To meet new cultures, understand different ideals."

"Their ideals got him killed," Reed said coldly. "Forgive me if I don't see that as a good thing." He stood up and Archer tensed, as if expecting Reed to make another escape attempt, but Reed started pacing in front of the torpedo bay instead.

"Sometimes you're so much like Jerrett, I want to hate you for it. Then there are other times when I can't help but respect and admire you for that very reason. But in the end it won't matter how I feel because, like Jerrett, you think you're indestructible, that, by some miraculous event, you'll be saved. Well, the day will come when Daniels won't be there and you'll be dead too."

Archer stared at Reed in shock, unable to speak at first.

"I-I wish you had told me all of this sooner," he said hoarsely, once he could produce speech again.

"Why? Would it have made any difference?" Reed shot back, still pacing.

"Yes, of course it would have."

"Hmm. I wonder." Reed swept back and forth several more times before Archer couldn't stand it any longer.

"Dammit, Malcolm, will you please sit down?"

Reed stopped pacing but remained standing, arms crossed.

"What exactly are you trying to say, Lieutenant?" Archer demanded. "That you don't want to be on this ship anymore? Is that what you're saying?"

"Captain--"

"No, Malcolm, I want to know. You've been keeping enough things to yourself. I think it's time you--"

"Sir, please! I think I can hear someone outside the armoury," Reed said, pulling his phase pistol from its holster. Archer followed suit and both officers aimed their weapons at the door.

It opened a few seconds later to reveal Colonel Grat, who was holding a gun to Hoshi Sato's head.

Archer and Reed stared at Grat and his hostage in horror. They lowered their phase pistols immediately.

"Ah, Captain Archer, my contact said you'd run and hide like a coward," Grat said. "That's why I had my men block all of your escape routes, so you couldn't flee the ship." Grat smiled, nudging Hoshi's head with the muzzle of his gun. "I have to confess that I've never heard of a 'transporter room'. What is that exactly?" Archer gritted his teeth.

"Let her go, Grat. I'm the one you came here for."

Grat raised a boot and attempted to kick the air in front of him. Then he pulled his leg back quickly as he received a painful jolt from the EM-barrier.

"Lower this...this invisible wall you've erected, and I'll consider it," Grat said.

"Release my communications officer and we'll de-activate the force field." Grat scowled and shook his head.

"Oh, no. If I release her, you'll have no reason to lower your-your force field."

"I promise not to try anything. No tricks. You have my word, Grat."

"Your word?" Grat spat. "Why should I trust the word of a coward?"

Archer's jaw tightened but he said nothing. Reed felt his own temper flare. Although there were times he wished Archer was a coward, he knew, unfortunately, that Archer wasn't.

"I wouldn't cast too many stones, Colonel. Taking the weakest member of the crew hostage isn't exactly what I'd call an act of courage," Reed challenged.

"Hey!" Hoshi protested.

"Oh, sorry, Hoshi," Reed said, realizing that he had just insulted the linguist as well.

"I remember you," Grat said. "You were on Ilsa Minor. You tried to go in after your captain when the bomb exploded, though, of course, he wasn't there." Grat glared at Archer. "He has betrayed us both, my friend."

"I'm not your friend and the Captain hasn't betrayed anyone. He certainly isn't a murderer, unlike some people in this room."

"Murderer?" Grat cried. "I saved your life! You should be thanking me! I could have just as easily left you there, but I was moved by your courage and loyalty to your captain." He turned his gaze to Archer again. "Did you know I had to hit him on the head with the butt of my rifle and drag him to safety?" Archer smiled at Reed.

"Yes, and I can't say it surprised me," Archer answered. Then his face clouded. "What I can't understand is how you could go to the trouble of saving my armoury officer after planting a bomb that killed five innocent Suliban."

"They weren't innocent! They were members of the Cabal!"

"No, Grat, they were five former prisoners from your detention camp."

"Oh, is that the story they gave you?" Grat sneered.

"Yes, that's the story they gave me, but I also met them face to face. They were in the detention camp. I remembered them," Archer said. Grat laughed.

"No, you're trying to deceive me. They were members of the Cabal."

"They were just five ordinary Suliban. They didn't possess any genetic enhancements or superior technology. They were exhausted and scared and just wanted to stop running, to be re-united with their families. But they never got that chance thanks to you." Grat's face flushed in fury.

"That's a lie! My contact--"

"Your contact was Silik. You planted that bomb for Silik." Grat started to laugh again, but Reed could read the fear in his eyes.

"I don't know where you got your information from, Captain Archer, but my contact is a Tandaran trader named Kilis."

Archer's eyebrows rose dramatically. "Oh, a Tandaran trader. Really? And where did he manage to acquire the technology he sold you?"

"He's a trader. His business has taken him to many planets," Grat argued. Archer nodded, looking thoughtful.

"I see. Tell me, has this Kilis ever had any dealings with the Cabal during his extensive travels? I'm assuming that you didn't possess time-travelling technology before you met Kilis as you've obviously never come across transporters or EM-barriers before. Kilis gave you this new technology so you could plant that bomb on Ilsa Minor without being picked up by our scanners. Then you and your men used it again to board my ship."

Archer tilted his head slightly, as if he was examining Grat more closely.

"What kind of deal did he give you for this technology? Bet it was an offer you couldn't refuse."

The fingers wrapped around Hoshi's bicep tightened, and the linguist had to bite her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

"Oh, Kilis made me an excellent offer," Grat growled. "He offered me the chance to kill you."

"No, Silik made you his pawn, Grat. He changed his appearance so he would look like a Tandaran and then played you like a fool. He got you to do his dirty work, to attempt to kill me because he also wants me dead."

"Enough!" Grat shouted. "I've heard enough of your lies and false accusations! Lower your force field now or I'll kill the girl!" Grat pressed his gun even closer to Hoshi's head. Hoshi winced and closed her eyes.

"Okay, okay," Archer said quickly. "Don't hurt her."

"Sir, you can't give in to him," Reed whispered fiercely. "If we de-activate the EM-barrier, he'll kill you."

"And if we don't de-activate the EM-barrier, he'll kill Hoshi. Lower the force field, Malcolm."

"But, sir--"

"Do it, Lieutenant! That's an order!" Archer barked. Reed gave a curt nod.

"Aye, sir." Reed looked from Archer to Grat. The Tandaran was smirking, savouring the moment. Reed could see the look of anticipation on Grat's face. Suddenly he knew what he had to do.

He removed the control device from the pocket in his sleeve, but instead of remaining where he was, he moved closer to the force field. He walked slowly, keeping his eyes on the control device as if he was studying the readings. If he was standing close enough to Grat when the EM-barrier went down, he might be in a position to attack Grat and try to seize the gun.

"Malcolm." Archer was standing beside him. He placed a hand on Reed's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. Reed forced a smile.

"It's not your fault, sir."

"Thank you. That's good of you to say, Malcolm, but I'm afraid that's not why I'm sorry."

"Then why-?"

Archer's fist flew into Reed's face, and the armoury officer found himself sprawling on the ground, countless coloured spots dancing behind his eyelids. Archer grabbed the control device from Reed's hand. Reed managed to raise himself on his elbows just in time to see Archer de-activate the EM-barrier."

"No..."

Grat was dragging his hostage forward, his eyes gleaming. Then something totally unexpected happened. Grat was about to release Hoshi, when Daniels suddenly stepped through the bulkhead.

Grat started violently, dropping the gun. Hoshi elbowed him in the stomach then, as Grat doubled over, she brought her fists together and slammed both arms down on his back. He fell forward with a grunt, and Hoshi placed her boot on his neck. Archer tossed her his phase pistol, and she pointed it at Grat.

Reed gaped at Hoshi in wonder. It was all like some beautiful dream.

"Hoshi Sato, will you marry me?" he asked groggily. Hoshi turned her head in surprise.

"Why don't you try asking me that question again when your head has cleared and I'm not holding a gun," she grumbled as Reed tried to sit up.

"Right you are," he said, flopping back down on the floor. Then Archer entered his field of vision. Reed glared at him, anger welling up inside him. The Captain held out his hand, but Reed ignored it, struggling to sit up without the other man's assistance.

"You'll have my resignation in the morning," he told Archer.

"Malcolm--"

"No, I've had it! I'm sick of being the running joke around here! The funny little Englishman who likes to blow things up!"

"Malcolm, none of us think of you that way."

"No, you do!" Reed shouted, pointing a finger at Archer. "What you did just now proves it!"

"Because I stopped you from taking on Grat and getting yourself killed?" Archer cried in disbelief.

"No, because you won't let me do my job!"

"What?" Archer exclaimed. "What are you talking about?" "Oh, don't pretend you don't know! Reed snapped. "When you go on away missions, you ignore my advice and disregard at least a dozen security protocols. When I suggest new security protocols, such as the tactical alert, you either mock me or accuse me of being paranoid, then practically throw a fit if the phase cannons are offline.

"Sometimes I wonder why I'm even on this bloody ship. It's obviously not to protect you or the crew since you've got Daniels to do that. How many times has he saved your life in the last three or four days? At least twice? Oh, and let's not forget how he swooped in to save us when the Suliban attacked the ship, while Silik made me his punching bag." Reed raised a hand to his left eye and smiled sardonically. "Seems like Silik's not the only one."

"Malcolm!" Hoshi gasped, so shocked that she forgot to say her usual "lieutenant". Archer stood staring at Reed, his expression one of anger, pain and disappointment.

"I can't believe that after everything we've been through on this mission, that you could believe that. That you could believe any of that," Archer said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Reed wanted to wrench free of that gaze, but found that he couldn't. He thought that Archer had looked hurt when he, Reed, had been pinned to ship's hull and had tried to force Archer's hand by releasing the oxygen from his air tank: that had been nothing compared to this.

"Captain." Daniels was standing beside Archer, though his eyes were also fixed on the armoury officer. "May I speak to Lieutenant Reed in private?"

"It's not my call," Archer stated gruffly. "You'd have to ask Lieutenant Reed."

"Lieutenant?" Daniels asked. Reed nodded silently. It hardly mattered now.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Archer said. "Maybe you'll have more luck talking to him than I did." He turned abruptly and headed for the nearest com. Reed didn't move at all.

As two med techs arrived to escort a very dazed but conscious Billy to sickbay, and a security team took Grat into custody, Reed remained sitting on the ground. He liked the ground. It was firm and stable, and it was hard to fall any further if you were on the ground already.

After the armoury door had opened and closed for the last time, Reed found a pair of legs situated in front of him.

"I'm not getting up," Reed told the boots.

"Somehow I knew you'd say that," the voice above him answered. Then Daniels was sitting down beside him. Reed waited for the inevitable lecture to come, but Daniels seemed content to simply gaze around the armoury and take in his surroundings. Reed twitched restlessly. Daniels' silence was unnerving.

"Look, if you're going to lecture me could you bloody start already?" Reed demanded.

Daniels' eyes flicked to Reed in interest. "Oh, I wasn't planning to lecture you, Lieutenant. I agree with many of the things you said to Captain Archer. Well, not that part about being his punching bag, obviously, but I assume you only said that out of spite. You, uh, don't actually believe that, do you?"

"No, of course not. I..." Reed trailed off, looking confused. "If you're not here to lecture me, then what do you want? Have I somehow altered the timeline? Violated that...that Temporal Accord?"

"No, the timeline has remained intact, thanks, in part, to you."

"Me?" Reed asked in disbelief. "Why? What did I do?"

"Lieutenant, why do you think I came to your quarters today?"

"Because you knew the Captain would end up there."

"If I had only wanted to see the Captain, I could have gone to the bridge or his ready room."

"You...you said you needed my help," Reed stated hesitantly.

"Yes, I did. And you did. You did help. You kept the Captain alive when Enterprise was attacked and managed to draw Grat out."

"I didn't draw him out. He took Hoshi hostage and sought us out. If we had managed to get the Captain off the ship like we were supposed to...Why did you wink at me?"

"What?"

"Just before the Captain and I went off to the armoury and you disappeared through that bulkhead, you winked at me. What did it mean?"

Daniels smiled enigmatically and said nothing.

"We were supposed to end up in the armoury all along, weren't we?"

"Maybe," Daniels conceded. Reed's forehead furrowed for an instant in concentration, and his eyes narrowed again.

"If we were supposed to end up in the armoury, why did you insist that the Captain needed to leave the ship?"

"I was only there to give you a nudge in the right direction. I knew that if you found all the escape routes blocked, you'd probably take the Captain to the armoury and activate the EM-barrier."

"Did you also know that I'd nearly get myself killed by a transporter room full of Tandarans, or that Grat would take Hoshi hostage?"

Daniels raised his eyebrows. "No one ever said preserving the timeline was easy, Lieutenant. Besides, I wasn't supposed to interfere, remember?"

"But if that's true, then why did you walk through that bulkhead in the armoury and attempt to distract Grat when he was holding Hoshi hostage?"

Daniels blushed and bit his lip. "I...I thought the confrontation with Grat had ended. I didn't realize I was interrupting," he said sheepishly. Reed placed his head in his hands and groaned.

"I don't believe it."

"You don't believe it? What do you think my superiors will say?"

"I gather they won't be happy."

"You gather correctly, Lieutenant." Daniels sighed. "At least we were able to maintain the timeline and prevent Captain Archer from being killed...again."

Reed noted the "we" in Daniels' last sentence and felt a twinge of pride.

"Daniels...why did you wish to speak to me?" Reed asked, believing he might finally be ready for the answer. Daniels regarded Reed for a moment then smiled.

"I was hoping that if I could speak to you, I might be able to convince you to stay on the ship. You're important to this mission and the future, Lieutenant Reed. The crew of the Enterprise needs you, especially the Captain. Despite what you believe about me, I'm only allowed to 'swoop in' when the Temporal Accord has been violated. I'm afraid that the rest of the time, the Captain is your responsibility."

"Hmm. Try convincing him of that," Reed grumbled.

"Oh, I think you'll find that Captain Archer is a little more accommodating from now on," Daniels said. "I'm guessing it isn't every day that he's told off by his armoury officer." Reed's lips twitched, but he managed to keep a straight face. Then he rose from the ground, wincing as stiff and tired muscles protested the movement. Daniels gazed up at him from the ground, reminding Reed of an over-inquisitive child.

"Will you stay?" Daniels asked, surprising Reed by actually sounding anxious. Reed had just assumed that Daniels knew the answer already. He crossed his arms and looked down at Daniels.

"I'll think about it," he said.

The shuttlepod shook and rattled for several more seconds, then, with a final jolt that almost shot its occupants out of their seats, it gained a smooth attitude again.

"Is everybody okay?" Archer asked. Tucker and T'Pol answered in the affirmative, and Reed nodded before running a quick diagnostic on the console in front of him.

They had been lucky. The shuttlepod hadn't been damaged, though it had taken Archer's calm words of guidance, a slight degree of hysteria from Tucker, and a healthy dose of nerve on his own part for Reed to successfully pilot the shuttlepod around the huge meteor. Reed was glad that he had insisted they take shuttlepod two. Bad things always seemed to happen whenever he piloted shuttlepod one.

"Captain, I believe the com may be down," T'Pol said.

Perhaps I spoke too soon, Reed thought.

"Are you sure?" Tucker said, rising from his seat. He went to stand beside T'Pol, who was studying the readout. Tucker peered over her shoulder and clicked his tongue. "All right, what did you do to the com?"

"I didn't do anything to the bloody com, Commander," T'Pol stated calmly. Tucker dropped the tool he had just picked up and exchanged startled glances with Archer. Reed's chair practically swiveled around of its accord.

"Is something wrong?" T'Pol inquired.

"You...you just said 'bloody,'" Tucker gasped.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "I think you must be mistaken."

Tucker grinned and shook his head. "Uh uh. We all heard you say it."

T'Pol's brow creased. "Perhaps you simply imagined it. Humans are prone to--"

"We didn't imagine it, T'Pol," Archer said, leaning back in his chair with just the faintest hint of smugness. T'Pol's forehead creased a little more.

"Human ears are inferior to Vulcan ears. I believe it's possible that you may have misheard me," T'Pol said firmly. Reed, who had gone back to checking his console, swung his chair around again.

"Sub-commander, I'm British: I know you said 'bloody'." T'Pol turned back to the com stubbornly.

"T'Pol, is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Archer asked.

"No."

"As your captain, I think I should know about any problems that may...affect your ability to perform your duties."

T'Pol tensed slightly. "This 'problem,' as you call it, has had no affect on my ability to perform my duties," she said over her shoulder. "However, if you must know, I've had difficulty eliminating certain words from my vocabulary since my mind meld with Lieutenant Reed."

"What?" Archer laughed. "You're kidding!"

T'Pol closed her eyes. "I wish I was."

"So what kind of words are we talking about?" Tucker asked in amusement. T'Pol fixed her gaze on Reed, who swallowed nervously.

"'Lovely,' 'snog,' 'shag,' 'photon torpedo'--"

"Yes, all right, I think he gets the picture!" Reed interrupted, blushing furiously. Both Archer and Tucker laughed, and Reed decided it would be best to play pilot again. Archer plopped down in the seat closest to Reed a short time later, when he had managed to control his laughter and Tucker had returned to his toolbox.

"Your day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"Actually, I thought it had been going rather well up till now," Reed said. Archer nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

"Um, Malcolm, should I be worried that you're thinking about a weapon we don't possess?"

"We may not possess it, but the Klingons do."

Archer immediately sobered. "The Klingons?"

"Yes, I saw them listed on the weapons schematics when I was on that Klingon ship with Hoshi and Sub-commander T'Pol. I was thinking that if I could get back on board another Klingon ship, I'd be able to download the specs and--"

"Absolutely not!"

"But, sir!"

"NO!" Archer cleared his throat, trying to ignore his armoury officer's pout. "What's our ETA?"

"Who cares?" Reed grumbled.

"Lieutenant," Archer said sternly.

"Twelve minutes, sir."

When the shuttlepod reached the planet, Archer immediately bounded out of his seat, and Reed sighed resignedly. Some things would never change. The Captain would never understand the importance of acquiring new weapon technology and he would never follow security protocols.

Maybe listening to Daniels hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all, Reed thought as he rose from his chair. He walked to the hatch, expecting to find it open already and Archer halfway across the planet. He was surprised when he saw the Captain standing patiently by the hatch instead.

Reed stared at Archer questioningly, but Archer merely smiled. Then Reed understood: the Captain was making an effort.

"Thank you, sir," Reed said and, returning the smile, he reached for the hatch.

~the end~

If you enjoyed this story, the author would appreciate your feedback.

Home

Stories by Pairing

New Stories

Updates

Titles Index

Submissions

FAQ

Authors Index

Links

Permission has been expressly granted by the authors to post here. Please do not repost the authors' material without requesting permission directly from the author. All fiction is copyright by the authors.

Star Trek and Enterprise (the universe, the characters, and all related images and logos) are copyrighted by Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred. No money was made from the writing or posting of any content on this site.

Reed's Armory Archive is maintained by the Webmaster.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1